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LITTLE JACK RABBIT’S 
BIG BLUE BOOK 

















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LITTLE JACK RABBITS 


B Y 


D AVI D CORY 



7lcS2-^<X~ cZ?£ c ^*<-' 

c^Cu-c TZCz- 


PROFUSELY ILLUSTRATED WITH 
FULL PAGE COLORED AND 
BLACK O' WHITE PICTURES 


GROSSET 8 DUNLAP 

PUBLISHERS * NEW YORK 






















Copyright, 1924, by 
GROSSET & DUNLAP 


MAY 29 ’24 


©C1A792648 

"W© l 


TO THE GROWN-UPS 


Come with me, the little latch 
Hangs outside the Bramble Patch. 

You will find within this book, 

If you will but take a look, 

All the happy, care-free ways 
Of your golden childhood days. 

In the Kingdom of Little Animals every child is at 
home. That a dog can talk to his friends, that a rabbit 
may wear knickers or a little bird climb up a tiny stair 
inside a hollow tree trunk seem quite natural. 

Every child is willing to take my hand and step over 
the border into Rabbit Country. 

Come, you older ones, turn back the clock. Don’t you 
long for a moment to be once more in Make-Believe 
Land? Surely you will if you read the Little Jack Rabbit 
Books. You again will see yourself in the wistful eyes of 
the youngster at your knee as he listens to 

Yours for a story, 

David Cory, 

The Jack Rabbit Man. 




LIST OF BUNNY TALES 


TALE PAGE 


I. 

The Wedding .... 






i 

2. 

Hungry Hawk .... 






ii 

3 - 

The Lollypop Tree . 






21 

4 - 

Uncle Lucky .... 






30 

5 - 

The Radio Alarm 






42 

6. 

Mr. Wicked Wolf 






52 

7 - 

Timmie Meadowmouse 






64 

8. 

Invitations. 






7 i 

9 - 

The Circus. 






83 

IO. 

The Circus Elephant 






97 

ii. 

The Little Mountain Goat . 






104 

12. 

The Rescue. 






114 

13 - 

Danny Fox. 






122 

x 4 * 

Uncle Lucky’s Dream 






132 

* 5 - 

The Radio Story .... 






142 

16. 

Danger. 






149 

x 7 * 

Trouble . 






158 

18. 

Old Hooty Tooty Owl 






168 

19 - 

Little Deeds of Kindness . 






175 

20. 

Valentines. 






184 

21. 

Photographer Crane . 






191 

22. 

“Everybody Inn” 






198 


vij 










LIST OF BUNNY TALES 


viii 

TALE PAGE 

23. The Ragged Rabbit Giant. 213 

24. Granddaddy Bullfrog. 225 

25. Luckymobiling. 233 

26. The Race.244 

27. The Old Brown Horse.250 

28. The Visit. 2 59 

29. The Messenger . 269 








LIST OF PICTURES 


Uncle Dave Cory. Frontispiece 

PAGE 

“It’s almost time for the wedding” . . ‘ . . . 6 

“He’s over at the barnyard, talking to Old Sic’em” . . 13 

“That’s a good lad,” laughed Big Brown Bear ... 22 

“S.O.S. Please come quick!”.33 

“Don’t you bother me, you old rascal”.40 

“Now I’ll get you,” snarled Danny Fox .... 46 

Nice carrot porridge. 53 

“I GAVE HIM A SHOCK OF ELECTRICITY”.62 

“Hello,” exclaimed the Farmer’s boy.70 

“Heard the news?” asked the Old Brown Horse . . 72 

“Well, I guess yes three times !”.78 

“Some DAY you’ll GROW TO BE A BIG clown” . . . .91 

“The trained bear had begun to roller skate” ... 93 

The little bunny handing a rose to Lady Love . . . 98 

Just then down swooped Hungry Hawk . . . .102 

A TINY LIGHT APPEARED IN THE DISTANCE.Ill 

“What’s that?” asked Lady Love.118 

“I won’t hop out till Danny Fox goes home” . . .125 

“I don’t want to speak to him”.133 

Danny Fox in the patrol wagon.137 

“This is Station A.B.C.” .142 

“My, but it’s growing cold!”.149 

“Throw up your paws!” shouted Danny Fox . . .163 

ix 







X 


LIST OF PICTURES 


PAGE 


Old Hooty Tooty Owl grabbed up the little rabbit . . 171 

The old feathered robber peeped down . . . .174 
“Goodness me, this is a dull saw!”.179 

“I MUST GET BACK BEFORE SUPPER”.I 88 

“Pll soon be out at the Old Bramble Patch” . . .190 

“Please don’t wiggle!” ..201 

“Give me a peanut!”.204 

“Oh, she did, did she?”.216 

“Fighting it out between them”.224 

“To BE SURE I WILL,” ANSWERED THE OLD FROG .... 23O 

Reddy Comb, the rooster newsboy.234 

“I’ll tell you,” said Professor Crow.240 

“You’re a pretty good jumper yourself” .... 246 

“Now’s MY CHANCE,” THOUGHT DANNY FOX .... 253 

“Lay your head in the boat,” cried the Billy Goat . . 257 

“Once upon a time,” she began.262 

The knapsack burst open.263 

“I FEEL ONLY TWENTY-ONE”.264 

“Twice to the left, three to the right !” .... 272 

“Thank you, ma’am,” he said.275 











s 


In tL& Spring, 

Tke klue oirds sm 
AndL skies oi° "blue 
Smile down on^you 


Sings — 

Little Jack 
T^abbit to 
himself in the 
mirror. 


In the Big Blue Book 
Little Jack Babbit 
Wears a Blue Necktie. 










LITTLE JACK RABBIT’S 
BIG BLUE BOOK 


BUNNY TALE 1 

THE WEDDING 

Was some one knocking on the door of Uncle Lucky’s 
little white house on the corner of Lettuce Avenue and 
Carrot St., Rabbitville, U. S. A.? Well, I guess yes, three 
times. Maybe somebody has been knocking ever since 
Bobbie Redvest told me that a bad attack of rheumatism 
prevents the dear old gentleman rabbit from hearing 
unpleasant news. Well, anyway, when Uncle Lucky 
opened the door who do you think was standing on the 
mat? You’d never guess, not even if I told you he wore 
rubber boots and held a green umbrella in his hand. 

It was Daddy Longlegs—yes, sir, that’s who it was. 

“Goodness gracious meebus!” exclaimed the old gen¬ 
tleman rabbit, “are you wet?” 

“Soaked to the skin,” replied the shivering, rubber- 
booted, long-legged insect. “Let me sit by the kitchen 
stove and warm myself. Maybe I’ll get dry in an hour or 
so.” 


2 LITTLE JACK RABBIT’S BIG BLUE BOOK 

“Come right in!” cried dear, kind Uncle Lucky, lead¬ 
ing the way into the kitchen where little Miss Mousie, the 
dear old gentleman rabbit’s tiny housekeeper, was drying 
the breakfast dishes. 

“O sunny days, so sweet and warm, 

I miss you very much. 

I only hope the rheumatiz 
My little toe won’t touch 1” 

sang Uncle Lucky, helping Daddy Longlegs pull off his 
rubber boots. 

“Ha, ha!” laughed the old gentleman insect, stretch¬ 
ing out his cold, damp toes: 

“I love the cheerful kitchen fire, 

And though it is so kind 
To warm my frozen tippy toes, 

I’m always cold behind.” 

“Turn around once in a while,” replied Uncle Lucky, 
“that’s what I do!” 

“Don’t set your coat tails on fire,” advised Little Miss 
Mousie, as she nibbled a piece of angel cake. 

Pretty soon, the Old Red Rooster came in with the 
Bunnybridge Bugle, the nice morning paper that dear 
Uncle Lucky loves to read when breakfast is over. 

Taking out a cabbage leaf cigar, he slipped his feet 
into his comfortable woolen slippers and, placing his 


THE WEDDING 3 

gold-rimmed spectacles on his nose, sat down in his big 
arm chair. 


Pitter, patter, went the rain 
On the misty window pane; 

While the fire’s cheerful glow 
Warmed his poor rheumatic toe. 

By this time Daddy Longlegs was nice and dry, so he, 
too, sat down to read by the fire, and Little Miss Mousie, 
seeing that nobody wished to talk, scampered back to her 
little house in the corner of the sitting room. As for the 
Old Red Rooster, he hurried out to the barn to mend the 
old wheelbarrow. 

Pitter, patter, sings the rain 
In a drowsy, soft refrain. 

Ticker, tacker, on the leaves, 

Dripping, dripping, from the eaves. 

Tinkle, tinkle, on the pane, 

Rings the wind-blown summer rain. 

Pretty soon, Uncle Lucky fell asleep and when he 
woke up, Mr. Merry Sun was shining and Daddy Long- 
legs had gone. 

“Oh, dear and oh, dear!” sighed dear Uncle Lucky, 
taking out his gold watch and chain, “I wonder what time 
it is.” 

Then he sighed again and looked out of the window. 


4 LITTLE JACK RABBIT’S BIG BLUE BOOK 

But the postman wasn’t in sight, only the Old Red 
Rooster raking up the leaves. 

“Well, well, well!” sighed lonely Uncle Lucky, for 
the third time, “what shall I do?” 

“Sing a song,” suggested Little Miss Mousie, peeking 
out of her small front door in the far corner of the sitting 
room. 

“Sing us two songs,” shouted the Old Red Rooster 
through the open window. 

So down at the piano sat kind Uncle Lucky, and, after 
running his paws over the keys, commenced: 

“When I was young and twenty, 

And my hair was curly brown, 

I loved a lady bunny, 

The sweetest in the town. 

One day I bought a ringlet 
At the Three-in-One Cent Store, 

And then that eve I called on her 
And placed it on her paw. 

But oh, the years have flown since then, 

Way back in ’63, 

And only my old wedding hat 
Is left to lonely me.” 

Then up jumped dear, tender-hearted Uncle Lucky, 
and wiping the tears in his left eye, took down his old wed- 


THE WEDDING 


5 


ding stovepipe hat and carefully dusted it off with his blue 
silk polkadot handkerchief. 

All of a sudden the telephone bell began to ring. 

“Who’s calling me?” inquired the old gentleman 
bunny, taking down the receiver and holding it up to his 
left ear. 

“Oh, it’s you, is it?” he said the next moment. “Well, 
I don’t want to talk to you—no, I don’t. You make 
me cross,” and with that Uncle Lucky hung up the 
receiver and hopped back to his big comfortable arm¬ 
chair. 

“Who was it?” asked Little Miss Mousie, running 
across the floor to the piano stool, up which she climbed. 
Then, smoothing her bobbed hair, she smiled sweetly at 
the old gentleman bunny. 

“Chatterbox, the red squirrel,” answered Uncle 
Lucky. “He has a funny story to tell me, but my rheuma¬ 
tism won’t listen to anything, so I excused myself. Dear 
me, how my little left hind toe aches. I must be careful 
or I’ll be full of crossness.” 

“You’ll never be full of anything but kindness,” re¬ 
plied Little Miss Mousie, arranging the cushions in the 
big armchair. And she spoke the truth, don’t you think 
so, dear little girls and boys? 

But poor Uncle Lucky couldn’t fall asleep again, nor 
could he eat the nice luncheon which Little Miss Mousie 
brought in on a silver tray. 

By and by, after smoking a cabbage-leaf cigar, he said 
with a sigh, “I guess I’ll play a tune; maybe I’ll sing an- 


6 LITTLE JACK RABBIT’S BIG BLUE BOOK 

other song,” and hopping over to the piano, he turned the 
little stool around three times and a half, and commenced 
to sing: 


“When she was only sweet sixteen 
I loved a little rabbit queen. 

Her eyes were pink as any rose, 

And even pinker was her nose. 

And pinker far her ears inside, 

And when she said she’d be my bride, 

I bought a lovely wedding ring, 

And we were married in the spring.” 

“Heigh ho, how the years go!” sighed the old gentle¬ 
man rabbit and, taking out his gold watch and chain, he 
suddenly exclaimed: “Goodness gracious meebus! It’s 
almost time for the wedding!” 

Quickly putting on his old wedding stovepipe hat, he 
hopped out of his little house. 

You see, his dear bunny niece, pretty Lady Love, had 
decided to get married and settle down in the Old Bram¬ 
ble Patch. Perhaps that’s why Uncle Lucky sang the 
song about the pretty rabbit queen. 

And now I’ll tell you about the wedding. All the 
Shady Forest folk were there, of course, and so were the 
Sunny Meadow people. 

Old Mrs. Bunny had put her house in apple-pie order, 
and after the wedding in the Shady Forest, and Parson 







































THE WEDDING 


7 


Owl had given Lady Love, the pretty little lady bunny, to 
Mr. Rabbit to care for all the rest of his life, everybody 
started back to the Old Bramble Patch. Goodness me, it 
was a long procession! Squirrel Nutcracker, the Big 
Brown Bear, Granddaddy Bullfrog, Grandmother Mag¬ 
pie, Busy Beaver, Sammy Skunk, the Old Brown Horse, 
Mrs. Grouse, Chippy Chipmunk, the Stage Coach Dog, 
the Old Red Rooster, the Yellow Dog Tramp, the Police¬ 
man Dog, Old Barney Owl, the Circus Elephant, the sure¬ 
footed little Mountain Goat, and all the Barnyard Folk. 
Everybody was anxious to see the little house that dear 
Uncle Lucky had built for Lady Love. 

Well, when they all reached the Old Bramble Patch, 
there stood dear Uncle Lucky on the front porch, his old 
wedding stovepipe hat in his front paw and his big dia¬ 
mond horseshoe pin in his pink cravat. Yes, sir, there he 
stood, bowing and smiling just as if it were his own wed¬ 
ding day and not somebody else’s, as Mr. Rabbit and 
Lady Love hopped up the path and into the house to stand 
under a big horseshoe wreath of clover and shake hands 
with all their friends. 

Just as everybody had finished looking at the wedding 
presents, and dear Uncle Lucky was saying, “Bless you, 
my children!” Danny Fox peeped into the window and 
shouted: “Don’t be frightened! Here’s a diamond neck¬ 
lace for Lady Love.” Then away he ran, knowing that 
nobody wanted him around; for he is a dreadful robber, 
you know, and robbers aren’t invited to a wedding. They 
come later to 


8 LITTLE JACK RABBIT’S BIG BLUE BOOK 

Your little Harlem Flat 
To steal your high top hat. 

At last, when the lollypop juice was all gone, and the 
grasshopper orchestra tired of playing, somebody called 
on Uncle Lucky for a song. 

“My dear old wedding hat 
I’ve worn for forty year. 

I’ve smiled and laughed beneath its brim 
And sometimes shed a tear. 

But, oh, it hardly seems to me 
It was way back in ’63 

I wore it on my wedding day, 

When I was frisky, young and gay,” 

sang the old gentleman rabbit, wiping a tear from his left 
eye with his blue silk polkadot handkerchief. Then kiss¬ 
ing the bride good-by, he stopped for a moment to hang 
up an old horseshoe on the front porch and then led the 
guests away, leaving pretty Lady Love and Mr. Rabbit 
to fill the little white bungalow with happiness in the 
years to come. 

By and by a little rabbit boy came to make their dream 
come true. As soon as the glad news was telephoned to 
dear Uncle Lucky, that happy old gentleman rabbit 
hopped into his Luckymobile and started off as fast as a 
comet for the little white bungalow. 


THE WEDDING 


9 


All the way over he honked the horn to bring out all 
the Shady Forest Folk from their tree houses and bur¬ 
rows. 

“What’s the matter?” asked Squirrel Nutcracker from 
his Old Tree Lodge. 

“Lady Love has a little boy rabbit!” answered Uncle 
Lucky. 

“What’s all the noise about?” inquired Busy Beaver, 
swimming up to the bank of the Shady Forest Pool. 

“Lady Love has a little rabbit boy!” answered Uncle 
Lucky. 

“Stop blowing that horn!” snapped Grandmother 
Magpie from her perch in the tall pine tree. 

“Not for a minute,” shouted back dear Uncle Lucky. 
“Lady Love has a little boy rabbit.” 

“Are you going crazy?” asked the Big Brown Bear 
as the Luckymobile whizzed by the Cozy Cave. 

“No, I’m going to see my little grandnephew,” an¬ 
swered Uncle Lucky. “Lady Love has a baby rabbit.” 

“You’ll wake up my babies,” cried Mrs. Bobbie 
Redvest, as the Luckymobile rushed past the Apple 
Orchard. 

“Never mind,” shouted back Uncle Lucky. “Tell ’em 
there’s a new baby at the Old Bramble Patch. Lady Love 
has a little boy rabbit.” 

“Goodness me, what a noise!” croaked Granddaddy 
Bullfrog, as Uncle Lucky circled the Old Duck Pond. 
“Has the old gentleman rabbit lost his wits?” 

“Not yet,” answered dear Uncle Lucky. “I’m off for 


IO LITTLE JACK RABBIT’S BIG BLUE BOOK 

the Old Bramble Patch to see Lady Love’s little boy rab¬ 
bit. He just came to-day.” 

“Where are you going?” asked Chippy Chipmunk, as 
Uncle Lucky sped by the Old Chestnut Tree. 

“To see Little Jack Rabbit, Lady Love’s baby,” an¬ 
swered the old gentleman rabbit. 

And so it went. Everybody wanted to know what was 
the matter, and when Uncle Lucky finally reached the 
dear Old Bramble Patch he had told the glad news to 
every single solitary person in the Shady Forest and 
Sunny Meadow. 


BUNNY TALE 2 


HUNGRY HAWK 

“Hush, little rabbit, go to sleep. 

Up in the sky the pretty stars peep; 

Down in the meadows the clover tops 
Are winking away at the lollypops,” 

sang Lady Love, as she rocked the cradle in which lay 
Little Jack Rabbit. 

Out in the kitchen Old Mrs. Bunny, who had come 
over for the day, was baking cabbage cake and Mr. Rab¬ 
bit was reading in the Bunnybridge Bugle a story about 
the new baby rabbit in the Old Bramble Patch. 

“Look, mother!” cried the proud rabbit father, turn¬ 
ing the paper toward the good lady bunny. 

“Well, I declare!” she exclaimed. “There’s his pic¬ 
ture as sure as I’m a grandmother and you’re my son.” 

Yes, sir! On the front page was a picture of Little 
Jack Rabbit, and underneath, in big purple letters: 

“A new arrival at the Old Bramble Patch. Lady Love 
has a baby boy bunny. Carrot City, Bunnybridge, Let- 
tucemere and Turnip City papers please copy.” 

“It makes me as proud as a peacock to see it in the 

II 


12 LITTLE JACK RABBIT’S BIG BLUE BOOK 

paper,” laughed Mr. Rabbit. “And to think that Little 
Jack Rabbit will soon be old enough to hop about the 
Sunny Meadow and through the Shady Forest.” 

Just then in came Timmie Meadowmouse to see the 
new little bunny boy. 

“Little Jack Rabbit is asleep,” explained his careful 
father. “Why didn’t you come early this afternoon? 
You ought to know, Timmie Meadowmouse, that little 
bunny babies are asleep by this hour.” 

“What time is it?” asked the little Meadowmouse “I 
left my watch home.” 

“It’s six o’clock and Merry Sun 
Is hiding behind a tree; 

It won’t be long before he will glide 
Into the western sea,” 

answered the cuckoo from her little clock house. 

“There! It’s six o’clock. You’d better look out for 
Hungry Hawk. You should be home by this time,” ex¬ 
claimed Mr. Rabbit. 

“Can’t I have a peep at your little bunny?” asked the 
tiny meadowmouse, holding his cap in his left paw as 
he turned the brass doorknob. “I want to tell the Sunny 
Meadow People I’ve seen him.” 

“Come along, then, on your tiptoes,” answered Mr. 
Rabbit, leading the little meadowmouse to the bedroom 
where the bunny baby lay sound asleep. 

“S-s-s-s-h!” whispered Lady Love from the rocking 


HUNGRY HAWK 


i3 


chair close by, as Timmie Meadowmouse stood on his 
hind legs to peep into the cradle. 

“He’ll be running about in a day or two,” chuckled 
Mr. Rabbit, as he said good night to Timmie Meadow- 
mouse. “He’ll be out with Uncle Lucky in no time.” 



And that’s just what happened a few weeks later when 
Uncle Lucky, hopping out of his Luckymobile and into 
the Old Bramble Patch, shouted: 

“Where’s that grandson of mine?” 

“He’s over at the Barnyard, talking to Old Sic’em,” 
answered Mr. Rabbit from the front porch. 













i 4 LITTLE JACK RABBIT’S BIG BLUE BOOK 

“Please call him home,” begged anxious Lady Love. 

“Have you polished the doorknob clean and bright, 
And brought in the kindling wood? 

I think I hear the canary bird 
Crying for breakfast food,” 

she said, as her bunny boy hopped up to the kitchen 
door. 

“Dear, oh, dear!” answered the truthful little rabbit, 
“I forgot all about her. But I filled the woodbox and 
polished the doorknob, Mother dear.” 

“Give me the watering can,” said the kind Old Red 
Rooster. “You attend to Little Miss Canary. 

She’s a pretty little fellow 
In her feather dress of yellow, 

And she sings so clear and sweet 
From her tiny wooden seat!” 

“My, where did you learn to talk in poetry?” asked 
the bunny boy, handing over the big green watering pot. 

“I’ll tell you some day when I have more time,” re¬ 
plied the Old Red Rooster. “Now, mind your mother. 
Hop along and feed the little birdie!” 

Away went the bunny boy, clipperty clip, lipperty lip, 
to give the pretty canary her breakfast. After which she 
stood tiptoe on the edge of the porcelain drinking cup, 
tilting back her head to let the drops of water trickle down 
her feather-ruffled throat. 


HUNGRY HAWK 


i5 


“Would you believe it, Little Jack Rabbit is growing 
so fast we have to call up the Three-in-One-Cent Store 
twice a week for a new suit of clothes? If he keeps on 
growing like this he’ll be in long pants before Easter,” 
explained sweet Lady Love to the old gentleman rabbit. 

“Ha, ha!” laughed dear Uncle Lucky. “I remember 
you grew mighty fast. It seemed I had hardly given you 
a lollypop rattle when it came time to give you a cherry¬ 
stone necklace.” 

Just then the Old Red Rooster began to crow: 

“Oh, things have changed in the Bramble Patch, 
I’ve scarcely a moment’s time to scratch; 

With Little Jack Rabbit to teach and learn 
I’ve hardly the time my wage to earn.” 

“Did you ever!” laughed Old Mrs. Bunny from the 
kitchen door. “One would think the Old Red Rooster 
was a busy person! He’d rather rest on his hoe and talk 
to Little Jack Rabbit than weed the garden. My, but he’s 
a lazy fowl!” 

“Never mind,” answered Uncle Lucky, hopping 
around the little white house. Not far away Little Jack 
Rabbit and the Old Red Rooster were feeding the 
pigeons, who had flown down from their pretty house on 
the top of a tall pole. 

“Hey, there, young rabbit!” cried Uncle Lucky. 
“Don’t pull the tail feathers out of the Old Red Rooster’s 
swallow tail coat!” You see, Little Jack Rabbit was mak- 


16 LITTLE JACK RABBIT’S BIG BLUE BOOK 

ing believe the good-natured rooster was a horse and he 
was driving him to the station at Bunnybridge. 

“Where have you been?” asked the little bunny. 

“Oh, I’ve just come in from a drive,” answered Uncle 
Lucky. “I had some business to attend to in Carrot 
City.” 

“When are you going to take me for a ride?” 

“Wait a little longer till you’re big enough to look 
out for yourself,” answered wise old Uncle Lucky. 
“There’s no telling when Danny Fox or Old Man 
Weasel may pop out from behind a tree. You’re safer 
here in the Old Bramble Patch for a while yet.” 

All of a sudden the Old Red Rooster gave a warning. 
Quick as a wink into the Little Red Barn hopped the two 
bunnies, Uncle Lucky first, Little Jack Rabbit next and 
last, but just as fast, the Old Red Rooster. 

Closing the door, they peeped out through a knothole. 
There in the back yard stood Hungry Hawk. 

“Ha, ha! Ha, ha!” cried Hungry Hawk, 

As he flew at the door with a dreadful squawk, 
“This Little Red Barn’s a pretty good place 
For rabbits to hide from my grinning face.” 

And, hopping around the barn, that old robber bird 
peeked in through every crack. By and by he came to 
quite a large knothole. Oh, dear me, yes! It was big 
enough for his head, and then it seemed almost large 
enough for his body. 


HUNGRY HAWK 


17 


“Goodness gracious meebus!” exclaimed anxious 
Uncle Lucky, “I’m afraid that old bird will squeeze in.” 

“Wait a minute, hold your breath, 

Don’t you sneeze or titter, 

I’ll show that dreadful robber bird 
That I’m a home run hitter,” 

whispered the Old Red Rooster, and the next minute he 
had crept over on his tiptoes to the tool closet for the big 
heavy wooden mallet. 

Hungry Hawk didn’t notice the Old Red Rooster. 
No, siree, ma’am! He was too busy pushing and shov¬ 
ing, and shoving and pushing. He surely thought that 
pretty soon he’d be in the barn, feasting on two nice rab¬ 
bits and maybe a fat rooster. 

How he did squirm and twist and twist and squirm! 
Dear me! I hope he doesn’t get both his wings through 
the knothole before the Old Red Rooster can swing the 
big wooden mallet. Because, if once inside, Hungry 
Hawk will put up a dreadful fight and maybe get the best 
of the two little rabbits and the Old Red Rooster. 

Dear me! again. I wish I could tell the Kind Police¬ 
man Dog over the wireless what is going on in the Little 
Red Barn. He wouldn’t wait a minute. No, sireemam! 
He’d come with his hickory stick and knock Hungry 
Hawk’s tail right off before the Old Red Rooster had 
time to swing the big wooden mallet. 

But there’s no use wishing for things. Just get out 


18 LITTLE JACK RABBIT’S BIG BLUE BOOK 

and get them! That’s the way. So, here we go! Old Red 
Rooster, hurry up! And that’s just what he did. 

Whack! Down came the wooden mallet on Hun¬ 
gry Hawk’s head. Whew! How mad he was! 

Whack! Again the Old Red Rooster tickled the 
wicked hawk’s head. 

“Give him another!” shouted Uncle Lucky, hiding 
Little Jack Rabbit behind his coat tails. “Hit him again, 
and three times more!” 

Now, let me see. What did Hungry Hawk do after 
Uncle Lucky shouted to the Old Red Rooster; “Hit him 
again!” Well, what would you think he’d do? First, he 
hid his head under his wing; then he tried to squeeze back 
through the knothole. But he couldn’t, for his feathers 
turned up at the end and made him bigger than ever. 

“I don’t want to break your head,” said the Old Red 
Rooster. “This wooden mallet is pretty hard. But if 
you think you’re going to eat Uncle Lucky or Little Jack 
Rabbit or yours truly, you’ve made a mistake.” 

“You bet you have!” exclaimed Uncle Lucky. “You 
better go home to Mrs. Hawk and lead a better life here¬ 
after.” 

“Dear me! I wish I could,” answered Hungry 
Hawk, “I’ve got an awful headache. The Old Red 
Rooster hit me three times with the wooden mallet.” 

Just then who should hop into the barn but the Po¬ 
liceman Dog. I wonder how he found out what was 
going on? 


HUNGRY HAWK 


i9 


“You wicked bird! I’ve a good notion to shoot you,” 
he shouted, pulling his gun from his hip pocket. 

“Don’t shoot!” begged Hungry Hawk, his tail feath¬ 
ers twitching and his eyes blinking with fright. My, but 
he was scared. For that Policeman Dog’s gun was a 
warlike looking weapon, let me tell you. The handle was 
red and the barrel black and the bullet as yellow as a 
dandelion. 

“I’ll take three minutes to think about it,” answered 
the Policeman Dog. “But what are you going to do? 
You can’t get out and you can’t get in, I guess you wish 
you were thin as a pin.” 

Just think of a Policeman Dog making up poetry at 
a dangerous time like this. Well, I never. 

“I’m worried enough to grow thin,” answered Hungry 
Hawk. “Besides, I’m dreadfully uncomfortable.” 

“I’ve got an idea,” suddenly exclaimed wise Uncle 
Lucky, “I’ll knock out the board. Maybe it will split in 
two and free the old bird.” 

“Please be careful,” begged Hungry Hawk, as the old 
gentleman rabbit lifted the heavy wooden mallet, “please 
don’t make a mistake and hit me.” 

“One, two, three!” sang out Uncle Lucky, and down 
came the mallet, whack! against the board. The next 
minute Hungry Hawk found himself by the woodpile. 
But, dear me! The board hadn’t cracked open. No, the 
nails had just pulled out of the Big Red Barn. 

All of a sudden the old hawk gave a tre-men-dous 


20 LITTLE JACK RABBIT’S BIG BLUE BOOK 


squirm and away he flew, with a whirr of wings, above 
the Sunny Meadow. 

“I guess he won’t bother little rabbits for some time,” 
cried Uncle Lucky. But, children dear, I’m sorry to say, 
a little further on in the book he does something dread¬ 
ful. 


Oh, hawks are very crafty things, 

They fly about on silent wings, 

And if, perchance, a little rabbit 
Is heedless of a watchful habit, 

He’ll find too late some sunny morning 
He should have followed mother’s warning. 


BUNNY TALE 3 


THE LOLLYPOP TREE 

“I must run up to see the Big Brown Bear,” thought 
Little Jack Rabbit, looking up at Mr. Merry Sun shin¬ 
ing in the Blue Sky Country. 

“I want you to hop down to the Three-in-One-Cent 
Store for a clothes-pin,” said Lady Love, his pretty bunny 
mother. 

‘‘All right, mother dear,” answered the little rabbit, 
tucking the napkin under his chin and helping himself 
to a big slice of carrot cake. 

My, what a nice breakfast his bunny mother had made 
for him—carrot cakes with lollypop syrup, turnip tea and 
lettuce marmalade. 

As soon as the little rabbit had brought in the kindling 
wood, fed the canary and polished the front door knob, 
he kissed his pretty bunny mother good-by and hopped 
down the winding path through the brambles to the 
Sunny Meadow. 

Peeking out of his little front door stood Timmie 
Meadowmouse. 

“Hello!” said Little Jack Rabbit, stopping before 
the tiny, round grass-ball house, hung on three stiff stalks 
21 


22 LITTLE JACK RABBIT’S BIG BLUE BOOK 

of grass about six inches above the ground, “Where do 
you think I’m going?’’ 

“Well, wherever you’re going,” answered the timid 
meadowmouse, peering anxiously out of the small round 
hole that serves for his front door, “you’d better look out 
for Danny Fox.” 

“Oh, I will,” replied Little Jack Rabbit. “And I’ll 
bring you a lollypop, ’cause I’m going up to see the Big 
Brown Bear and the Lollypop Tree. Good-by,” and away 
hopped the little bunny, clipperty clip, lipperty lip, up 
the Old Cow Path in the Sunny Meadow and over the 
hill top until, by and by, not so very long, he came to the 
Shady Forest, where he paused for a moment to inquire 
how Mrs. Nutcracker was getting along. 

“Very nicely, thank you,” replied old Squirrel Nut¬ 
cracker, dropping a handful of nuts in the little rabbit’s 
pocket. “She’ll soon be around again.” 

“I’m glad of that,” answered the kind-hearted little 
bunny boy, “mother sends her love,” and off he hopped 
up the Shady Forest Trail. 

As he passed the pool in which Busy Beaver has his 
home, he stopped to say “Hello.” 

“Hello, yourself!” shouted back the little beaver. 
“How are all the folks?” 

“Pretty well, except dear Uncle Lucky Lefthind- 
foot,” answered the little bunny rabbit boy. “He has 
the rheumatism in his left hind toe and Dr. Quack says 
it will be some time before he can do a toe dance.” 

“Shouldn’t wonder,” laughed the happy little beaver, 



















































































































































































































. 




. » 



















































































THE LOLLYPOP TREE 


23 


giving his big broad tail a sudden flap, sending the spray 
all over the little rabbit boy bunny’s fur coat, “but why 
should Uncle Lucky want to do a toe dance, anyway?” 

“I don’t know,” replied the little rabbit, wiping the 
water drops off his coat sleeve. “You’ve splashed me all 
over, Busy Beaver, yes, you have,” and away went the 
little rabbit, for it was nearly a mile and a whistle and 
a smile to Cozy Cave where the Big Brown Bear sold 

Ice cream cones and lollypops, 

Licorice sticks and Sweet Corn Pops, 
Peppermints and ’Lasses Drops. 

Dear me! Doesn’t that sound delicious? If only I 
had the time I’d leave my typewriter to run over to the 
Big Brown Bear. Would you come with me, little 
reader? I guess you would, and so would your little 
brother Jimmy. 

Well, now where was I before I began to dream? I 
was on my way to Cozy Cave for a gum drop? Oh, yes, 
Little Jack Rabbit had stopped before I had even started, 
so I’ll tell you without digressing further, which means 
to go off sideways—what the little bunny did. 

“Where you going?” asked Chippy Chipmunk, run¬ 
ning along the top of the Old Rail Fence, his red striped 
jacket shining in the morning sun and his eyes twinkling 
with curiosity. 

“To the cozy cave of the Big Brown Bear, 

And the Lollypop Tree just over there.” 


24 LITTLE JACK RABBIT’S BIG BLUE BOOK 

“Bring me a lollypop,” shouted Chippy Chipmunk 
as the little rabbit boy hopped up the Shady Forest Trail, 
in and out among the trees, where Billy Breeze whistled 
amid the leaves. 

By and by, way, way yonder, he could just make out 
the comfortable figure of the Big Brown Bear sitting in 
front of his cozy cave, smoking a corn-cob pipe. 

“Hello! hello!” shouted the little rabbit, waving his 
red-striped candy cane. “Are you there, Mr. Bear?” 

“No, I’m here,” chuckled the big good-natured, furry- 
coated animal, “but just keep on, you’ll find me all right.” 

“How’s mother?” he asked, taking the old corn-cob 
pipe from between his beautiful white pearly teeth, as the 
breathless little rabbit stood before him. 

“She’s well, thank you,” panted the little bunny boy, 
looking up at the lollypops as they winked their purple- 
pinky eyes from the branches of the Lollypop Tree. 

“Did you do your three chores for mother this morn¬ 
ing?” enquired the Big Brown Bear, although the little 
bunny boy wished to goodness gracious he would stop 
asking questions and give him a lollypop. 

“Oh, yes, oh, yes!” answered the wistful-eyed little 
rabbit. 

“You polished the front door knob, fed the canary 
and brought in the kindling wood?” continued the ques¬ 
tioning old bear. 

“Oh, yes, oh, yes,” repeated the little bunny boy rabbit, 
only this time he shouted it. 

“That’s a good lad,” laughed the Big Brown Bear, 


THE LOLLYPOP TREE 


25 


handing a pink lollypop to his little long-eared caller. 
“Have a lollypop!” 

And then, would you believe it, that big bear put 
away his pipe and began to suck a green lollypop. Just 
fancy that if you can! Pretty soon he said with a smile, 
“Want another?” 

“Have you any left?” asked the bunny boy, oh, so 
wist-ful-ly. 

“Well, I’ll see,” answered the Big Brown Bear, rising 
to his feet and ambling into the cozy cave. But, oh, dear 
me! the only things he found were a popcorn ball and 
an empty ice cream cone. 

“Goodness gracious!” he exclaimed, coming out 
again into the sunlight, “I guess I’ll have to climb the 
Lollypop Tree.” 

It didn’t take him long to swing himself up, and as 
he climbed higher and higher, the little rabbit watched 
him anxiously. Pretty soon the Big Brown Bear reached 
the branches where the lollypops grow in a rainbow row. 

“Do you want that nice pink one?” he asked, looking 
down into the little rabbit’s upturned face. 

“Oh, yes!” shouted the bunny boy. “And that green 
one, too, and that one all blue, and maybe a purple one 
for you.” 

Carefully picking off the lollypops, the big kind ani¬ 
mal shoved them into his coat pocket. Then sliding down 
the tree, he walked over and sat down on the big wooden 
bench. 

“Come, hop up beside me. We’ll sing the lollypop 


26 LITTLE JACK RABBIT’S BIG BLUE BOOK 

song!” and moving over to one side to make room for 
the little rabbit he held up the purple lollypop. Then the 
little bunny held up the pink lollypop, and, both together, 
all at once, just at the same time, they shouted: 

“Hip, Hip, Hurray, 

I lick a lollypop every day.” 

Pretty soon the lollypops were licked all to pieces—noth¬ 
ing was left but the two little sticks. 

“Well, well,” chuckled the Big Brown Bear, taking 
out of his pocket the green and blue lollypops. Then he 
and his little bunny friend held them up in the same way, 
singing all over again the lovely lollypop song, and when 
only the little sticks remained, the Big Brown Bear asked 
with a smile: 

“What shall we do now?” 

“Let’s have one more lollypop and one more song,” 
answered the little rabbit. 

“Dear, dear, dearest me! I must climb up the Lolly¬ 
pop Tree!” sighed the Big Brown Bear. But he was so 
kind and he was so good that up he went, until at last 
he came to the row where the beautiful, luscious lollypops 
grow. 

“Do you want that yellow one?” he asked. 

“Oh, yes, I do, and that red one, too,” shouted the 
little rabbit, “and that orange one will be good for you.” 

Picking them off the branches with his furry paw, the 
Big Brown Bear slipped them in his pocket and, scram- 


THE LOLLYPOP TREE 


2 7 


bling down to the ground, walked over to the big wooden 
bench. The little rabbit followed close at his heels and, 
jumping up beside him, peeked into the good-natured 
animal’s pocket. 

“My, what a hungry little bunny,” laughed the Big 
Brown Bear, pulling out the lollypops. Then, holding 
up the orange colored one in his right paw, he waited 
for the little bunny boy. 

“Hip, Hip, Hurray, 

I lick a lollypop every day,” 

they shouted all over again; and not until the lollypops 
were all gone did the little rabbit suddenly remember the 
errand for his mother. 

“Dear, oh, dear! I almost forgot that mother wants 
a clothes-pin from the Three-in-One Cent Store. Good- 
by, Mr. Big Brown Bear,” and away hopped the little 
rabbit down the winding trail, in and out among the trees, 
until at last he hopped across Busy Beaver’s dam that 
held back the water in the Bubbling Brook. 

“What’s your hurry?” asked the beaver. 

“Don’t stop me!” replied the little bunny boy. 
“Mother asked me to get a clothes-pin,” and, hitching 
up his little knapsack, he swung his little striped candy 
cane around three times and a half and hopped merrily 
up the Old Cow Path toward the farmyard. 

“Hello!” cackled Henny Jenny, as he peeked in 
through the fence. 


28 LITTLE JACK RABBIT’S BIG BLUE BOOK 

“Cock-a-doodle-doo!” crowed Cocky Doodle. 

“I’m pretty well,” answered the bunny boy rabbit, “but 
don’t stop me! I must get a clothes-pin for mother at 
the Three-in-One Cent Store.” 

But, dear me! Just then Ducky Waddles shuffled 
around the big haystack and Turkey Tim strutted across 
the yard. Of course they, too, shouted “Hello!” and the 
next minute the Weathercock on the big Red Barn spun 
around on his gilded toe and asked the little rabbit the 
time. 

“Dear me!” thought the little bunny, taking out the 
big gold watch which Uncle Lucky had given him for 
a birthday present, “I’m afraid to look—I’ve wasted so 
much time this morning.” And then, oh, how I hate to 
tell it, something dreadful happened. 

All of a sudden, 

Just like that, 

Out of the house 
Came the farmer’s cat. 

“Oh, dear me!” thought the little rabbit, backing away 
toward the old apple tree, “Black Cat will surely scratch 
all the little buttons off my fur overcoat.” 

“Meow! Meow!” cried Black Cat, creeping forward, 
his wicked green eyes blazing like balls of fire and his 
sharp claws sticking out of his fur-mittens. 

And the poor little rabbit, his back against the old 
apple tree, stood all a-tremble, not knowing what to do. 


THE LOLLYPOP TREE 


29 


“Go way, go way!” he cried. But closer and closer 
crept the wicked cat in his long black coat. 

All of a sudden a little voice from a treetop whispered: 

“Don’t you remember how your mother taught you 
to defend yourself?” 

Then, of course, the little rabbit boy remembered the 
only way a bunny can protect himself. Turning around 
as quick as a flash, he struck out with his two strong hind 
legs, hitting Black Cat such a welt in the belt that all the 
breath was knocked out of him. It took the old cat five 
minutes to find it. And while he hunted here and there, 
under a stone and behind a bush, away hopped the little 
rabbit, clipperty clip, lipperty lip, down the road to 
Rabbitville. 

“Don’t forget next time to remember what mother tells 
you,” called little Bobbie Redvest from the apple tree. 

“Oh, I won’t, I won’t!” shouted the little bunny boy 
over his shoulder, “I’m trying now to remember the 
clothes-pin!” and away he hopped faster than ever to 
the Three-in-One Cent Store. 


BUNNY TALE 4 


UNCLE LUCKY 

Goodness me! boys and girls, I think I forgot to men¬ 
tion that just back of Uncle Lucky’s little white house 
stood a tiny garage in which he kept his Luckymobile, 
the fastest car in all Rabbitville. Sometimes it went so 
fast that the hind wheels couldn’t keep up with the front 
wheels. Then, of course, the old gentleman rabbit had 
to honk the horn and put on the brakes to avoid a dread¬ 
ful accident. 

One morning dear Uncle Lucky hopped into the 
kitchen where Little Miss Mousie was setting the break¬ 
fast table while the turnip tea was singing on the stove. 

As soon as the meal was over the old gentleman rab¬ 
bit slipped his big diamond horseshoe pin into his purple 
cravat and buttoned up his pink waistcoat. Then tying 
his blue silk polkadot handkerchief over the top of his 
old wedding stovepipe hat and under his chin to keep 
Billy Breeze from blowing it off, he shouted, “Good-by, 
Little Miss Mousie!” and hopped out to the garage, where 
the old Red Rooster was cleaning the Luckymobile 
cushions with his feather duster tail. 

“Ha, ha!” laughed dear Uncle Lucky, hopping into 

3 ° 


UNCLE LUCKY 


3 * 


the Luckymobile, “I’m going to take Little Jack Rabbit 
out for a ride.” And, giving the horn a honk or two, he 
whizzed through the little gate in the white picket fence. 
At Cabbage Street he turned off Lettuce Avenue and into 
the Shady Forest. By and by, after a while, he reached 
the dear Old Bramble Patch. 

“I’ll be out in just a minute!” shouted Little Jack 
Rabbit in answer to the three honks of the Luckymobile 
horn. “I’ve almost finished polishing the front door 
knob.” 

“Don’t hurry!” replied the old gentleman rabbit, hop¬ 
ping around to the kitchen where Lady Love, the little 
rabbit’s mother, was wiping the dishes. 

“Here comes Uncle Lucky!” chirped the little Black 
Cricket from the woodbox by the kitchen stove. 

“Here comes Uncle Lucky!” sang the Three Little 
Grasshoppers, while the pretty Canary from her gold 
cage twittered a song of welcome and the Hollyhocks 
nodded their heads as the old gentleman rabbit hopped 
up on the little back porch. 

Lady Love pushed forward the big rocking chair and 
when the old gentleman bunny was comfortably seated, 
handed him a cup of turnip tea. 

“Ah, me!” he sighed, though smiling at Lady Love: 

“When I was young and frisky 
Way back in ’63, 

A pretty little bunny girl 
Gave me a cup of tea,” 


32 LITTLE JACK RABBIT’S BIG BLUE BOOK 

and taking a blue silk polkadot handkerchief out of his 
coat-tail pocket, dear kind Uncle Lucky wiped a tear from 
his left eye. 

Pretty soon when Little Jack Rabbit had finished pol¬ 
ishing the front door knob, he and Uncle Lucky hopped 
out to the Luckymobile and drove away across the Sunny 
Meadow, up the Old Cow Path and over the hill-top, to 
the Shady Forest. 

Everything was going along so nicely and Billy 
Breeze was whistling such a merry tune in the treetops 
when, all of a sudden, just like that, quick as the bills on 
the first of the month, something happened. Isn’t it too 
bad that unpleasant things always happen when these two 
dear little rabbits are enjoying themselves? 

Before Uncle Lucky could stop the Luckymobile it 
ran straight into a big log that lay across the Shady Forest 
Path, and out went the two little bunnies. No sooner had 
they picked themselves up than whom should they see 
peeping around a tree, but Mr. Wicked Wolf. 

“Oh, dear! oh, dear!” whispered Little Jack Rabbit, 
“let’s turn back.” 

But, goodness gracious me! who was standing not far 
behind them, but Danny Fox! 

“Worse and worse,” sighed poor dear Uncle Lucky, 
hopping off sideways when, all of a sudden, Old Man 
Weasel crept from behind a stone. 

“What shall we do?” cried the poor little rabbit, all 
a-tremble with fright. “Won’t somebody come to help 
us?” 


UNCLE LUCKY 


33 


“Hurry up, little rabbit, 
Quickly jump 
Into that friendly old 
Hollow Stump,” 



“S.O.S. Please come quick!” 


whispered a little voice from the treetop. And, wasn’t it 
lucky? it was the Old Hollow Stump Telephone Booth. 

“S.O.S. Please come quick, 

Policeman Dog, with your hickory stick 1” 


shouted the bunny boy. 











34 LITTLE JACK RABBIT’S BIG BLUE BOOK 

Then brave Uncle Lucky held the door tight shut 
with his strong hind legs while the little rabbit peeped 
out through a knothole. 

“Is he coming? Is he coming?” asked the anxious 
old gentleman rabbit, still holding the door tightly closed 
with his strong hind legs. 

“Maybe I can see him with my left eye,” answered 
the little rabbit, again squinting through the knothole. 
“Here he comes! Here he comes!” 

Sure enough, the big kind Policeman Dog in his long 
blue coat with its big silver star was running swiftly across 
the Sunny Meadow. 

“Here, I am!” he shouted, waving his hickory stick 
and blowing his big shrill whistle. 

No sooner did Danny Fox hear that whistle than he 
ran through the Shady Forest. 

No sooner did Mr. Wicked Wolf see the big kind 
Policeman Dog than he, too, turned and fled. 

As for Old Man Weasel, he crawled under the bed on 
reaching home and never dared to come out for a week 
and a day. 

“Everything is safe now!” shouted the big kind 
Policeman Dog, tapping the little door of the old Hollow 
Stump Telephone Booth with his big hickory stick.. So 
out hopped the two little rabbits. 

“Here, take this!” cried dear generous Uncle Lucky, 
pulling out of his wallet a ten dollar lettuce leaf bill for 
the brave Policeman Dog. “Buy the Missus a new calico 
apron and the little bowwow some candy.” 


UNCLE LUCKY 


35 


“Thank you,” said the good Policeman Dog, saluting 
the old gentleman rabbit with his right paw, and away 
he ran to the Police Station in Rabbitville. 

“I guess we’d better go home,” said the old gentleman 
rabbit. “We’ve had enough trouble for to-day,” and be¬ 
fore long he drove through the gate in the white picket 
fence and around to the garage in the rear of his little 
white house on the corner of Lettuce Avenue and Carrot 
Street, Rabbitville. 

There stood the Old Red Rooster, polishing his spurs 
with Uncle Lucky’s shoe brush. 

“Are you going to a wedding?” asked the old gen¬ 
tleman rabbit, winking at Mrs. Swallow, who was peep¬ 
ing out of her mud house under the eaves. 

“No, to a fight!” answered the Old Red Rooster. 

“Maybe I’d better bring in some cabbage leaves,” said 
the old gentleman rabbit, hopping down the little path 
under the grape arbor and around the Old Well to the 
garden. “Miss Mousie can make us a nice salad for 
lunch.” And while his little mouse housekeeper was set¬ 
ting the table, he and Little Jack Rabbit hopped out on 
the front porch where, just under the roof, pretty Mrs. 
Sparrow had a nest crowded with little birdies. 

Sitting down in the hammock, the old gentleman rab¬ 
bit swung back and forth, while his little bunny nephew 
looked in the croquet box to see if Hungry Hawk had 
stolen one of the nice wooden balls. 

Pretty soon, when the old gentleman rabbit had fallen 
asleep, Mrs. Sparrow whispered in the little bunny’s ear, 


36 LITTLE JACK RABBIT’S BIG BLUE BOOK 

“I never, never pay a cent, 

My little house is free of rent,” 

and she went on to explain how dear generous Uncle 
Lucky allowed her to use his front porch free of charge 
all through the year. 

By and by Little Miss Mousie came to the front door 
to say that luncheon was ready. 

“Dearest me!” exclaimed Uncle Lucky, “did I fall 
asleep?” and jumping out of the hammock, he winked at 
little Mrs. Sparrow. Then calling to Little Jack Rabbit, 
he hopped through the front hall, where the Old Grand¬ 
father Clock went tick, tickie, tock all the day long. 

“Oh, all the day long 
Old Grandfather Clock 
Went tickie, tick, tickie, 

Tick, tickie, tock. 

But Little Miss Mousie, 

She wasn’t afraid, 

As she polished the window 
And pulled down the shade. 

She loved the Old Grandfather 
Tick, tockey Clock, 

Why, she sang to herself 
As it went tickie, tock! 


UNCLE LUCKY 


37 


“Goodness gracious meebus!” exclaimed the old gen¬ 
tleman rabbit, hanging his old wedding stovepipe hat on 
the hat-stand, “I’m as hungry as three bears!” 

“So am I,” laughed the little rabbit, “I could eat a bag 
of animal crackers!” 

“Dearest me! Somebody’s knocking,” exclaimed the 
old gentleman rabbit, as Little Miss Mousie brought in 
the lollypop stew. “I wonder if it’s Old Man Trouble?” 

“No, it isn’t,” answered Little Miss Mousie, peeking 
through the keyhole. “It’s Granddaddy Bullfrog.” 

“Ask him in! Don’t keep him waiting!” shouted 
dear hospitable Uncle Lucky. 

“You’re just in time for lunch,” he added, as the old 
gentleman frog hopped into the kitchen. 

Pushing up a chair, Little Miss Mousie made an extra 
place for him at the neat little table. But, oh, dear me! 
she forgot to give him a napkin, and because the old gen¬ 
tleman frog was too polite to ask for one while eating a 
raspberry tart, one of the raspberries rolled down his 
white waistcoat! 

“Goodness gracious meebus!” exclaimed dear Uncle 
Lucky, suddenly seeing the big red stain, “were you sign¬ 
ing checks with red ink this morning?” 

But before the embarrassed old frog could answer 
kind Little Miss Mousie washed off the spot with a gaso¬ 
lene cloth. 

After the meal was over Uncle Lucky and Grand¬ 
daddy Bullfrog hopped out on the front porch to play 


38 LITTLE JACK RABBIT’S BIG BLUE BOOK 

pinochle and the little rabbit went out to talk to the Old 
Red Rooster, who was still polishing his spurs in the Old 
Red Barn. 

By and by the little bunny grew restless and, thinking 
he had better be going, he hopped around to the kitchen 
to say good-by to Little Miss Mousie. After she had 
filled his pockets with sweet cookies, he stopped a mo¬ 
ment at the front porch, but Uncle Lucky and Grand- 
daddy Bullfrog were so busy with their game that they 
never noticed him. 

“I’ll say good-by for you,” twittered little Mrs. Spar¬ 
row, knowing that the little bunny didn’t want dear Uncle 
Lucky to wonder what had become of him. 

“Here comes a little rabbit bunny, 

His knapsack full of ready money 
Lettuce bills and carrot cents, 

And maybe a million turnip pence,” 

sang Bobbie Redvest from the Old Rail Fence. 

“Not quite so many,” answered the little rabbit, “but 
maybe some day I’ll have enough to buy mother a jade 
necklace.” 

“Look out! Look out for Danny Fox! 

He’s sneaking round in his tiptoe socks! 

If he should see you first, look out! 

You won’t have time to even shout!” 


UNCLE LUCKY 


39 


whispered Billy Breeze to all the little people of the Shady 
Forest and the Sunny Meadow. He didn’t exactly whis¬ 
per it, you know. He did it in a better way, a way by 
which no one heard a word. He carried the smell of the 
wicked old fox to the nose of every little animal. Yes, sir, 
that’s how Billy Breeze whispers bad news! 

“I’m glad I’m safe at home,” thought the little bunny, 
as he opened the little gate in the white picket fence 
around the dear Old Bramble Patch. 

“Dear, oh, dear!” sighed Mrs. Grouse, hiding her 
brood under her wings amid the brown underbrush. 

“Goodness gracious!” cackled little Henny Jenny, 
“I’m glad Old Sic’em, the farmer’s dog, is around. I hope 
the Farmer’s Boy won’t whistle to him.” 

“Heigh, ho!” yawned Mrs. Cow, with a shake of her 
head, making the little bell on her collar ting-a-ling. “So 
old Danny Fox is out hunting!” 

Then the motherly lady cow walked over to rub her 
nose against the silky ear of her long-legged little calf. 
“But you needn’t be afraid of that old robber. He eats 
only little defenseless bunnies and chickens. He’s no 
real hunter. Oh, my, no! He’s only a sneak thief.” 

“What’s that you’re saying about me?” asked a voice, 
all of a sudden, quick as a lightning bug or a tornado. 

There stood Danny Fox himself, close by the Old Rail 
Fence. 

“Moo-oo! Moo-oo!” answered Mrs. Cow, lowering 
her head till her horns pointed right at his head. 


40 LITTLE JACK RABBIT’S BIG BLUE BOOK 

“S-s-s-h!” whispered the sly old robber, “maybe the 
farmer will think you’re calling him!” 

“I don’t care if he does,” answered Mrs. Cow, giving 
her head a toss, but quickly lowering it to bring the tips 



of her horns on a level with Danny Fox’s eyes. “Don’t 
you bother me, you old rascal.” 

“Ha, ha!” laughed Danny Fox, carefully peering 
here and there, however, for fear some one might be com¬ 
ing by, “Fm not afraid of you. Besides, you have a thim¬ 
ble on each of your horns.” 

They weren’t real thimbles, you know, but the little 











UNCLE LUCKY 


4 1 


brass caps which the Farmer had fastened on. Danny 
Fox thought they were thimbles because Mrs. Fox used 
a thimble when she mended Bushytail’s coat or Slyboot’s 
trousers. 

“I don’t care what you say, you old robber,” answered 
Mrs. Cow with a loud moo-oo! walking up to the fence 
as brave as a fireman or a policeman. “Get out, or I’ll 
toss you over the Bubbling Brook, or maybe farther!” 

“Now, don’t get disagreeable,” whined the old fox, 
“Fm going along. Maybe I’ll find a nice little rabbit for 
supper.” 

But he won’t catch Little Jack Rabbit. No, indeed! 
That dear little bunny boy is safe in the Old Bramble 
Patch. 


BUNNY TALE 5 


THE RADIO ALARM 

“Dear me!” exclaimed Lady Love, the little rabbit’s 
pretty mother, “where is my bunny boy?” and the worried 
lady rabbit hopped out of the kitchen of the tiny white 
bungalow down to the edge of the Sunny Meadow. Shad¬ 
ing her eyes with her paw, she looked up the old Cow Path 
to the Big Red Barn, but no little bunny boy could she 
see there or anywhere. 

“Dear me!” she sighed again, “what has become of 
him. I hope Danny Fox isn’t chasing him in the Shady 
Forest.” 

For some time she stood at the edge of the Old Bram¬ 
ble Patch, looking across the meadow, but at last she 
turned and hopped up the little path through the bram¬ 
bles to the tiny garden in the rear of her pretty white 
bungalow. 

“I’ll pick some carrots and lettuce,” she said to her¬ 
self. Filling her apron, she had hardly turned to hop 
into her neat little kitchen when, all of a sudden, just like 
that, quick as the wind that blows off your hat, over the 
Old Rail Fence jumped Danny Fox. 

“Oh, dear, oh, dear!” she cried. 

“My dear, my dear!” laughed Danny Fox, creeping 
toward her, “how sweet and tender you look!” 

42 


THE RADIO ALARM 


43 


Poor little Lady Love dropped the carrots and lettuce 
and hopped toward the barn, but Wicked Danny Fox was 
too quick for her. Then she tried to hop over to the wood- 
pile, but the nimble old beast again jumped in front of 
her. 

“You’d better let me put you in my bag,” snarled the 
cruel beast. “If you don’t, I’ll bite off your left ear.” 

“Please, oh, please, don’t touch me,” cried the fright¬ 
ened little bunny lady. “Oh, oh, oh.” 

Just then a friendly bark sounded near, and the next 
minute over the fence came the Yellow Dog Tramp. 

“Get out!” he shouted, and, picking up a stick of wood, 
he hit the old fox over the head. 

“Ouch! ouch!” yelled that old robber, and away he 
sneaked, leaving Lady Love and the kind dog to pick up 
the carrots and lettuce leaves. 

“Dear me,” thought the old fox, as he ran into the 
Shady Forest, “it grows worse every day. Some one al¬ 
ways comes at the wrong time.” 

Yes, indeed, this old robber hardly knew what to do. 
Every time he started out from his den in the rocky hill¬ 
side, somebody would call over the wireless: 

“Danny Fox is going hunting!” 

After that warning, of course, everybody locked his 
front door and bolted his back door and pulled down the 
window shades. 

“My dear,” he said, one dark gloomy night to Mrs. 
Fox, “maybe I can bring home a chicken—it’s dark 
enough to hide me.” 


44 LITTLE JACK RABBIT’S BIG BLUE BOOK 

So off he started with a big empty bag over his shoul¬ 
der. As he softly crept through the Shady Forest he saw 
a little twinkling star. 

“Now, who’s that, I wonder?” he asked himself in a 
whisper. But, of course, as he didn’t know, he got no 
answer. 

“I must be careful,” he thought, “it might be the 
Policeman Dog’s lantern.” 

So the old robber fox hid behind a tree and waited. 
By and by, after a while, who should come along but a 
firefly. My, how her little lantern flickered and flared in 
the wind. 

“Oh, ho!” said Danny Fox, “who’s afraid? I’m glad 
it’s not the Policeman Dog!” 

The little firefly kept on her way, for, of course, she 
hadn’t heard Danny Fox thinking. As her little light had 
disappeared in the darkness the old robber came out of 
his hiding place. 

Then off he started again for the henhouse. 

By and by he reached the Old Barnyard. But just as 
he crept around the Big Red Barn, Old Sic’em, the farm¬ 
er’s dog, looked out of his wooden house. 

“Bow, wow!” he went, tugging at the chain which 
kept him home nights in his little bungalow, “wow.” 

“Keep quiet, can’t you,” whined Danny Fox. 

“Get out!” snarled Old Sic’em. “I’ll call the farmer.” 

Just then who should hop by in the moonlight but 
Little Jack Rabbit on his way home. 


THE RADIO ALARM 


45 

“I guess I’ll catch that little bunny,” thought the old 
fox, sneaking around to the Big Red Barn. 

“Now where is the old robber going?” the Weather¬ 
cock asked himself, as he swung to and fro on his gilded 
toe. 

He needn’t have asked that question, though, for just 
then he spied Little Jack Rabbit and a second later, Danny 
Fox. 

“Dear, dear me!” thought the kind Weathercock, “I 
don’t want that wicked fox to catch that nice little bunny. 
What shall I do?” 

All of a sudden he remembered the radio. On top of 
the Big Red Barn the Farmer’s Boy had fastened a set 
of wires which led down to his little room in the loft. 

“Hello! hello!” shouted the Weathercock. “Danny 
Fox is after Little Jack Rabbit!” 

The Farmer’s Boy must have heard him, for out of 
bed he jumped to call through the transmitter: 

“Danny Fox is after Little Jack Rabbit! Danny Fox 
is out hunting!” 

“Ha, ha!” exclaimed the Policeman Dog, as the mes¬ 
sage rang out in the Station House and, picking up his 
club, off he started for the Shady Forest. 

Just then a soft voice whispered from the treetop: 

“Danny Fox is close to the heels of Little Jack 
Rabbit.” 

The dear little bunny was hopping down the forest 
trail happy as could be. He didn’t know that close be- 


46 LITTLE JACK RABBIT’S BIG BLUE BOOK 

hind was crafty Danny Fox. No, siree! He thought he 
was safe enough. Why, he never had a thought of 
danger. 

“I’ll soon be home with Mother,” he said to himself 
when, all of a sudden—dear, dear! Will something 
dreadful happen? 

“Now I’ll get you!” snarled Danny Fox. 

“No, not yet!” barked the Policeman Dog, swinging 
his club. Whack! Down it came on the old fox’s head. 

“Now, run!” shouted the Policeman Dog. And 
maybe Little Jack Rabbit didn’t go! Why, he went so 
fast that he left his shadow a mile behind him! 

Then back to the Station House trotted the Policeman 
Dog, leaving the sly fox to get home as best he could. 

In a few minutes the little bunny was safe in the dear 
Old Bramble Patch. 

“Mother dear,” he said the next morning, “can’t I 
have a radio outfit for my very own?” 

“Call up the Three-in-One-Cent Store and find out 
what it will cost,” she answered. 

It took the little rabbit bunny boy just a minute or 
three to call up 

“Rabbitville, 1,2, 3. 

Hurry up! It’s little me.” 

“Who’s Little Me?” asked a voice. Then, of course 
the little rabbit had to explain who he was, whether it 
looked like rain, and why the clover tops were not so red 




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THE RADIO ALARM 


47 


as last year. You see, the person in the Three-in-One-Cent 
Store was a very curious person, always trying to find out 
what was going on in the Shady Forest and the Sunny 
Meadow. Maybe he had once been a country boy rabbit 
before going into business at Rabbitville, U. S. A. 

By and by he figured out what the cost of a radio 
outfit would be. 

“When do you want it installed?” he asked, which 
means, set up. 

“Wait till I ask mother,” answered the little bunny, 
hopping into the kitchen where the pretty lady bunny was 
making carrot cake and lollypop stew for supper. 

“Dear, dear me!” she exclaimed, on learning that it 
would cost 230 carrot cents. “You’d better call up your 
Uncle Lucky. He’s rich enough to put in a dozen. 
Maybe he’ll order one for you. I wish I had the money,” 
and sweet Lady Love picked up her little boy rabbit and 
kissed him three times, once on the left cheek, twice on 
the right cheek and, last and best, on the mouth. “There 
now, run along.” 

So away he hopped back to the receiver to tell the rab¬ 
bit clerk at the Three-in-One-Cent Store that unless Uncle 
Lucky supplied the money there’d be no radio at the little 
white bungalow in the Old Bramble Patch. 

“Too bad, and yet not so worse. Your Uncle Lucky 
is so fond of you that he might buy you a little Luckymo- 
bile some day, pretty soon,” answered the clerk. 

After saying good-by, Little Jack Rabbit asked Cen¬ 
tral to give him: 


48 LITTLE JACK RABBIT’S BIG BLUE BOOK 

“One, Two, Three, 

Ring Happy Bell, 

Uncle Lucky in Clover Dell.” 

In a moment Uncle Lucky shouted: “Hello, hello! 
Who’s calling me?” 

“Little Jack Rabbit,” answered the bunny boy, quick 
as a wink. “I want a radio set, but I haven’t enough 
money. All the other little boys are going to get one.” 

“I don’t care if the radio set costs a million carrot 
cents,” shouted dear Uncle Lucky over the telephone 
when the bunny salesman at the Three-in-One-Cent Store 
suggested that a radio outfit was rather expensive. “Noth¬ 
ing is too good for my little nephew. Put it in right away 
so that he can listen to David Cory’s stories.” 

“All right, Mr. Lucky Lefthindfoot,” respectfully 
answered the Three-in-One-Cent Store salesman, hanging 
up the receiver. 

“This afternoon I’ll motor over to the Old Bramble 
Patch,” said the old gentleman rabbit to himself, sitting 
down in his comfortable armchair to read the Bunny- 
bridge Bugle. After luncheon he hopped out to the 
garage and, telling the Old Red Rooster to weed the let¬ 
tuce patch, set out for Little Jack Rabbit’s bungalow. 

“Dear me! He had gone only a little way, not so very 
far, when something went wrong with the Luckymobile. 
Dear me! again. By the time it was mended, Mr. Happy 
Sun was nearly ready for bed. At last, however, dear 
Uncle Lucky arrived at the Old Bramble Patch, with his 


THE RADIO ALARM 


49 


old wedding stovepipe hat and blue silk polkadot hand¬ 
kerchief. Honking the horn maybe a million times, less 
or more, he hopped out and into the little kitchen where 
Lady Love and her bunny boy were eating supper. 

“Have you got any clover top pie?” asked the old 
gentleman rabbit, hanging up his old wedding stovepipe 
hat. 

Of course Lady Love had. She had everything that 
was good to eat, you may be sure. 

As soon as the supper dishes were cleared away, the 
three little rabbits hopped into the sitting room to hear 
the victrola sing: 

“Oh, early in the morning 
Before the sun is high, 

I love to hunt for cherries 
In mother’s apple pie. 

And if Old Mother Hubbard 
Can’t find her dog a bone, 

I’ll take him to the candy store 
To get an ice cream cone.” 

“Ha, ha!” laughed Uncle Lucky, and he told a funny 
story of a crab who, by walking backwards into an or¬ 
chard, made all the trees bear crab apples, which so pro¬ 
voked the farmer that he boiled the crab and ate him for 
supper. 

By and by the little cuckoo began to sing from her 


50 LITTLE JACK RABBIT’S BIG BLUE BOOK 

little clock house: “Time for bed, time for bed!” At once 
the three little rabbits hopped upstairs, first blowing out 
all the electric lights so that Hungry Hawk, who is al¬ 
ways looking for little mice and rabbits, wouldn’t be able 
to see the little white bungalow. 

And when everything was quiet a tiny fly asked Little 
Miss Cricket: 

“Is there any cheese in Lady Love’s cupboard?” 

But the little cricket wouldn’t tell where Lady Love 
kept all her good things and neither would I and neither 
would the canary bird who was sound asleep with her 
head under her wing. 

The next morning, bright and early, Uncle Lucky 
shouted over the ’phone: “Is this the Three-in-One Cent 
Store? Don’t forget to put in Little Jack Rabbit’s radio 
apparatus?” 

“We’ll have it installed to-day—don’t worry.” 

“Let’s invite all our friends over to-night,” said Uncle 
Lucky, turning to Little Jack Rabbit. 

In less than five hundred short seconds the two little 
bunnies were speeding away. Pretty soon they saw 
Squirrel Nutcracker on the doorstep of his Chestnut Tree 
House. 

“Come over to-night and listen in over our new ra¬ 
dio,” shouted the bunny boy. 

“I’ll be there, thank you!” replied the old squirrel. 

Next, Busy Beaver said he’d come; also Sammy Skunk 
and the Big Brown Bear. Then Uncle Lucky stopped 


THE RADIO ALARM 51 

at the Old Duck Pond to invite Granddaddy Bullfrog and 
Taddy Tadpole. 

“What’s all the noise about?” asked pretty Mrs. Oriole 
from her stocking-like nest on the Old Willow Tree. 

“Come over to my radio party to-night,” answered 
Little Jack Rabbit, as he drove over to the Barnyard. 

“I’ll come,” crowed Cocky Doodle. 

“I’ll be there,” said Goosey Lucy. 

“I won’t be a second late,” promised Turkey Tim. 

“Yes, we’ll come, 

Make no mistake, 

And don’t forget 
The Angel Cake!” 

shouted all the Barnyard Folk. 

“Ha! ha!” laughed Little Jack Rabbit, “won’t we have 
a dandy radio party?” 


BUNNY TALE 6 


MR. WICKED WOLF 

“Hop out of bed and wash your face 
And neatly part your hair 
Right down the middle of your back, 

Then hurry down the stair,” 

sounded the wake-up song of the musical alarm clock. 

Out of bed hopped Little Jack Rabbit and in a few 
minutes he was ready for breakfast—nice carrot porridge 
with lettuce cream, turnip toast and a stewed lollypop. 
After he had polished the front door knob, fed the canary 
and filled with kindling the woodbox behind the kitchen 
stove, he kissed Lady Love good-by. 

“Do be careful!” cautioned his pretty bunny mother, 
smoothing the blue bow at his little white throat. “Do be 
careful. Danny Fox is everywhere.” 

“Don’t worry,” answered the little rabbit bunny boy, 
and away he hopped down the winding path through the 
brambles. Pretty soon he came to the Sunny Meadow, 
through which the Bubbling Brook gurgled and laughed 
until it splashed into the Old Duck Pond. 

The Sunny Meadow was brown and barren. No lovely 
flowers smiled at the little rabbit as he hopped along. A 

52 


MR. WICKED WOLF 53 

few dry leaves scurried by as Billy Breeze whistled mer¬ 
rily. 

“Where are you going, bunny boy? 

Here is a penny to buy a toy,” 


all of a sudden shouted Professor Crow from a treetop. 



Nice carrot porridge. 


“Oh, thank you!” answered the happy little rabbit, po¬ 
litely. “I’ll go right down to the Three-in-One Cent Store 
for a lollypop ice-cream cone.” 

On the way he heard Squirrel Nutcracker scolding 
Chatterbox, his red squirrel cousin. 


























54 LITTLE JACK RABBIT’S BIG BLUE BOOK 

“What’s the matter?” inquired the little rabbit. 

“Nothing but trouble,” replied the old gray squirrel. 
“Chatterbox tried to steal into my store house.” 

“I did not!” answered the little Red Squirrel. “I only 
peeked in through a knot hole.” 

“Let’s play a game of tag! You’re it!” shouted the 
bunny boy, clapping his paw on Chatterbox’s shoulder. 

My, what a scamper after that! Over the fallen logs, 
across the Bubbling Brook and under the Old Rail Fence 
raced these three little people until, all of a sudden, they 
almost bumped into the Billy Goat Stage Coach. 

“Stop! stop! I want to take a ride, 

Pull in your Billy Goat Team, 

I’m on my way to Turnip Town 
For a lollypop ice cream,” 

shouted Little Jack Rabbit. 

“Whoa!” cried the Old Dog Driver, pulling in the 
billy goats right in front of the little bunny. “Stand still, 
Butter! Quiet now, Bouncer!” 

“All right, I’m in,” called out the little rabbit, look¬ 
ing up through the open window at the good bow-wow 
driver. 

“Gid-ap!” shouted the Old Dog, clicking his tongue 
on his long white teeth, and cracking his whip over the 
heads of his prancing billy goats. 

Away went the Billy Goat Stage Coach, rattlety bang, 


MR. WICKED WOLF 55 

over the bumps and over the stones till it almost crackled 
the bunny boy’s bones. 

Pretty soon the Old Dog Driver shouted: 

“Carrot City—Next stop, Turnip Town!” 

“Wait, wait!” squeaked an old lady Pig, waving a 
green umbrella. 

“Hurry up!” growled the Old Dog, “I’m five minutes 
behind time.” 

“Where are you going?” asked the breathless lady 
Pig, as the polite little rabbit latched the coach door. 

“Turnip Town, m’am,” he answered, opening his 
knapsack to slip in his little red-striped candy cane. 

“Going for a visit?” enquired the inquisitive lady Pig. 

“No, m’am,” replied the little rabbit. “Just going for 
a candy chocolate mouse.” 

“Be careful, the peppermint cat might catch it,” said 
the lady Pig with a squeaky chuckle. 

“Dear me!” sighed the little bunny, “is she as fierce as 
the farmer’s black cat?” 

“Not quite,” answered the talkative lady Pig. 

Just then the coach stopped and in hopped Daddy 
Longlegs. He wore a long linen duster and carried a 
cotton umbrella on his arm. 

“Well, I declare!” he exclaimed, “if my dear little 
friend isn’t on board.” And, sitting down by the little 
bunny, he enquired all about the folks at home. 

“Mother’s well,” answered the little rabbit. “She al¬ 
ways wears two pink roses, one on each cheek.” 


56 LITTLE JACK RABBIT’S BIG BLUE BOOK 

“How’s Uncle Lucky?” 

“Oh, he’s all right,” laughed the bunny boy. 

“He’s always well 
And hops up with 
The rising bell.” 

“Turnip Town!” all of a sudden shouted the Old Dog 
Driver, and out jumped the little rabbit boy to buy his 
chocolate mouse. 

“Dear me!” he sighed, as he hopped out of the candy 
shop, “I must hurry home,” and away he went, clipperty 
clip, lipperty lip to the Shady Forest. 

By and by, not so very far, a dreadful howl sounded 
close at hand. Dear me! before poor little Jack Rabbit 
could hop away somebody grabbed him by the throat. 

“Ha, ha, ha! Now I’ve got you!” chuckled a deep, 
growly voice, and Mr. Wicked Wolf dropped the little 
frightened bunny boy into a big empty gunny sack. 
Then, throwing it over his shoulder, he started off for his 
den in the Shady Forest. 

“Ha, ha, ha!” again chuckled Mr. Wicked Wolf, 
“what a nice dinner Mrs. Wolf and I will have to-night!” 

“Oh, dear me!” thought the little rabbit, “mother will 
never again see her little bunny boy come hopping up the 
path in the Old Bramble Patch.” 

“Ha, ha!” chuckled Mr. Wolf, as he hurried along 
with the poor little rabbit. 

“Oh, oh, oh!” cried the poor little bunny boy, all alone 


MR. WICKED WOLF 


57 


in the sack on the back of the big wicked wolf, “what 
shall I do, what shall I do? I’m a goner. Yes, I’m a 
goner, just as sure as 

Monday follows Sunday 
And sunshine follows rain, 

And the little brook flows to the ocean, 

And green apples give you a pain!” 

Poor Little Jack Rabbit! all alone—in the sack—on 
the back—of Mr. Wicked Wolf. 

Just then a little voice from the treetop whispered: 
“Haven’t you a knife in your pocket, little rabbit?” 

It was Bobbie Redvest’s voice, so low and sweet that 
Mr. Wicked Wolf, who was old and deaf, never heard a 
word. 

“Oh, oh, oh!” thought the little rabbit, all a-tremble, 
his little knees going clitter, clatter and his little heart pit- 
ter, patter, “I wonder if I have?” And he looked through 
his pockets one by one, his little pink nose trembling with 
fright just like a star on a frosty night. At last, oh joy! 
and a catch of his breath; he found his knife in the little 
handkerchief pocket of his coat. 

Then he waited all alone—in the sack—on the back— 
of Mr. Wicked Wolf. 

There! It came again, the little voice from the tree- 
top: 

“Cut a hole—in the sack— 

Oh, so care-ful-ly!” 


58 LITTLE JACK RABBIT’S BIG BLUE BOOK 

All a-tremble, the little rabbit opened his knife and 
made a slit in the bag, oh, so qui-et-ly. 

Then, thrusting out his head, he was just going to hop 
away, when the little voice from the treetop whispered: 

“Wait—a—minute.” 

“Oh, dear me!” thought the little rabbit, “I don’t want 
to wait. I want to get away.” But he minded the little 
voice, and it was mighty well he did, for just then Mr. 
Wicked Wolf stopped short and said, “Gee whiskers, I’m 
getting tired. I guess I’ll sit down on this old log.” And 
down he sat, letting the sack slip to the ground. Taking 
out his old corncob, he filled it with tobacco and, scratch¬ 
ing a match on his furry trouser leg, commenced to smoke. 

“Now’s your chance!” whispered the little voice from 
the treetop. 

Out jumped the little rabbit, but as he was about to 
hop away, oh, dear me! again the little voice from the 
treetop whispered: 

“Wait—a—minute.” 

“Oh, oh, oh!” sighed the little bunny, “I don’t want to 
wait. I want to get away!” But he minded the little voice 
from the treetop. 

“Pick up—that stone—and slip—it in—the sack—oh, 
—so—care-ful-ly.” 

And the little rabbit, all a-tremble, his little heart a- 
pitter-patter and his little knees a-clitter-clatter, picked up 
the stone and slipped it in the sack, oh, so care-ful-ly. 

“Wait—a—minute!” whispered the little voice for the 
third time, as he was about to hop away. 


MR. WICKED WOLF 


59 


“Oh, oh, oh, oh!” sighed the little bunny, looking over 
his shoulder at Mr. Wicked Wolf’s hairy back, “if I wait 
another minute I’ll never get away.” But he minded the 
little voice from the treetop. 

“Pin up the slit—in the sack—with three—pine needle 
—pins,” whispered the little voice. All a-tremble, the 
poor, distracted little rabbit hunted on the ground under 
the big pine tree until he found the three little pins. Then, 
oh, so, care-ful-ly, he pinned up the slit in the sack. 

“Now’s your chance!” whispered the little voice. 
“Hide!” 

The next minute the little rabbit had hopped behind a 
tree. Button : ng up his pretty white fur overcoat so that 
it wouldn’t show around the trunk and drawing together 
the tips of his little ears, he waited, oh, so anxiously, for 
maybe just a minute or three. 

“Guess I’m rested now!” said Mr. Wicked Wolf, 
knocking the ashes from his pipe and slipping it in his 
pocket. Then, drawing the sack up on his shoulder, he 
started off for home. 

“My, what a heavy little bunny you are!” he growled, 
as he trotted through the woods. 

Pretty soon he jumped over the Bubbling Brook. But 
when he landed on the other side, 

The great big stone 
In the sack 
Hit him a dreadful 
Whack on the back. 


60 LITTLE JACK RABBIT’S BIG BLUE BOOK 

“Oh, my! What a tough little rabbit you are! But 
wait till I get you home! Mrs. Wolf will stew you until 
you’re nice and soft and tender! Ha, ha!” 

“Hey, mother,” he shouted, on reaching his little stone 
house on the wooded hillside, “I have a nice little rabbit 
for supper.” 

Letting the sack slip to the ground, Mr. Wicked Wolf 
untied it, oh, so care-ful-ly! But, goodness gracious 
me! When he peeked in and saw a big stone instead of a 
tender little rabbit, wasn’t he angry? 

Shoving in his paw, he pulled out the stone and hurled 
it across the Sunny Meadow. Whack! it came up against 
the old apple tree, knocking off twenty big red apples, 
which almost hit Little Jack Rabbit as he hopped safely 
back to the dear Old Bramble Patch, where Lady Love, 
his pretty bunny mother, stood waiting for her little boy 
at the gate in the old picket fence. 

“Cousin Cottontail has invited us over this evening 
to hear the Jack Rabbit Man tell stories,” she said, kissing 
her little bunny boy. 

“Ha, ha! That will be fine!” cried the little bunny, 
forgetting all about Mr. Wicked Wolf. Dear me, I wish 
that wicked wolf had forgotten all about the little rabbit. 
Then, with a skip and jump, he hopped on the porch. 

“Hello, little rabbit boy,” twittered the canary from 
her gold cage. “What makes you so happy?” 

“Didn’t you hear what mother just said?” he asked, 
with a twinkle of his pretty pink nose. 


MR. WICKED WOLF 


61 


“No,” answered the pretty yellow bird. “What did 
she say?” 

“That we are invited over to Cousin Cottontail’s to 
listen on the radio.” 

Just then something happened. Isn’t it a shame that 
unpleasant things so often happen? 

“No, you’re not going to hear bunny stories to-night,” 
growled a deep ugly voice, and there, just outside the Old 
Bramble Patch, stood Mr. Wicked Wolf. Dear mel 
How cruel he looked, his big red tongue hanging out of 
his mouth and his long sharp teeth gleaming like bowie 
knives in the sunlight. 

“What—what are you here for?” asked the little rab¬ 
bit, all a-tremble. 

“Never you mind!” snarled the ugly beast. “I’ll wait 
here for you.” 

“No, no, please don’t wait!” cried the frightened little 
rabbit. 

“Gr-r-r!” growled the big ferocious animal; “I’d like 
to eat you. I would, if I could only break through into 
the Old Bramble Patch.” 

Little Jack Rabbit didn’t wait to hear more. Quickly 
taking down the canary cage, he hopped one, two, three, 
go! into his little bungalow. 

“Mother! Mother!” he shouted, skip-toeing into the 
kitchen, “something dreadful is going to happen to-night. 
Mr. Wicked Wolf is waiting outside.” 

“You don’t say so!” cried the anxious lady bunny, 


62 LITTLE JACK RABBIT’S BIG BLUE BOOK 

“Oh, dear! oh, dear! what shall we do? I declare, I wish 
your father wouldn’t go away on business so often.” 

“How will we hear the bunny stories to-night?” asked 
the little rabbit. 



“Goodness knows!” replied his mother. “Maybe I’d 
better telephone.” But, dear, dear me! the wire was out of 
order and all you could hear was a dreadful buzzing like 
a million bees. 









MR. WICKED WOLF 


63 


“Well, if I’m not mad clear through and through,” said 
Lady Love. “The idea of Mr. Wicked Wolf spoiling our 
evening. I believe he’s done something to the telephone 
wire,” and the ex-as-per-ated lady bunny again took down 
the receiver. Then, all of a sudden, she hopped over to the 
electric drop-light and, unscrewing the silk cord connec¬ 
tion, placed it against the telephone. 

Goodness me! What a howl of pain came from the 
outskirts of the Old Bramble Patch. With a laugh, Lady 
Love hopped over to the back porch and pointed to Mr. 
Wicked Wolf limping across the Sunny Meadow. 

“He had pulled down my telephone wire,” cried the 
lady bunny, “but he let go when I gave him a shock of 
electricity. Ha, ha! I guess he won’t trouble us any more 
this evening.” Then putting on her little sunny bonnet 
with the pinky roses on it, she and Little Jack Rabbit 
hopped over to Cousin Cottontail’s house. 


BUNNY TALE 7 


TIMMIE MEADOWMOUSE 

Little Jack Rabbit looked out of the tiny white bun¬ 
galow in the Old Bramble Patch. The rain was falling 
and the Sunny Meadow wasn’t the least bit sunny. No, in¬ 
deed. The Bubbling Brook was making a great fuss as it 
rushed along, sometimes overflowing its banks and mak¬ 
ing little lakes in the hollow spaces. 

“Ker dunk! ker dunk!” croaked Granddaddy Bull¬ 
frog from his log in the Old Duck Pond. He didn’t mind 
the rain. His rubber coat kept him nice and dry. As for 
his shoes, I guess he’d never outgrown his boyhood’s de¬ 
light in bare legs. 

Down from the Farmyard waddled Duckey Waddles 
on his big wide wabbly yellow feet. He loved the wet 
weather, oh, my yes. Pretty soon he went in for a swim, 
now and then, and sometimes oftener, standing on his head 
in the water to catch a little minnow. 

“Quack, quack!” he shouted in answer to Granddaddy 
Bullfrog’s solemn “Ker dunk, ker dunk!” 

Up at the Farmyard Cocky Doodle, Henny Jenny, 
Goosey Lucy and Turkey Tim stood out of the wet under 
the old cowshed, wondering how long Mr. Merry Sun 
would hide behind the gray rain clouds. 

64 


TIMMIE MEADOWMOUSE 65 

On the top of the Big Red Barn the weathercock 
turned to and fro on his gilded toe, for Billy Breeze was 
blowing across the open spaces, now sending the clouds 
helter-skelter over the sky, now bending the dripping 
bushes or shaking the raindrops from the apple trees. 

“I wish you’d let me point to the West,” sighed the 
Weathercock. “Then it would soon clear up.” 

“Maybe I will,” answered Billy Breeze, and all of a 
sudden he blew away a dark cloud and out came Mr. 
Merry Sun with a smile. 

“Hurray!” shouted the Weathercock, swinging about 
on his toe to point to the West. “Now we’ll have a beau¬ 
tiful day.” 

“I think so,” laughed Little Jack Rabbit, hopping out 
of his pretty white bungalow and down the narrow path 
through the rough brambles to the Sunny Meadow. 

Just then who should come along but Timmie Mead- 
owmouse. My, but he was glad to see the lovely sunshine. 

“Howdy! Have you heard the news?” he asked. 

“What news?” asked the little rabbit, curiously, think¬ 
ing, “Goodness me! Something dreadful has happened,” 
as he twinked his little pink nose and winked his two big 
pink eyes. 

“Stop!” cried the tiny meadowmouse, “you make me so 
dizzy, I can’t think.” 

“All right,” replied the little rabbit, “but hurry. I’m 
afraid something has happened to Chippy Chipmunk or 
the Big Brown Bear.” 

“Not a bit of it,” answered Timmie Meadowmouse, 


66 LITTLE JACK RABBIT’S BIG BLUE BOOK 

taking off his little fur cap. All of a sudden, quick as a 
flash, or a smash or a dash, down from the sky swooped 
Hungry Hawk. 

“Look out!” shouted the little rabbit, hopping under a 
bush. But, dear me! The tiny meadowmouse was just a 
second too late. The next minute up in the air he went, 
held tightly in the cruel claws of the old hawk. 

“Help! help!” shouted poor frightened Timmie Mead¬ 
owmouse, as higher and higher flew the big feathered 
robber until pretty soon he looked like a tiny speck in the 
sky. 

“How can I save my little friend?” cried the unhappy 
bunny boy. But nobody answered him, not even Billy 
Breeze, who is such a good friend to all the little people 
of the Shady Forest and the Sunny Meadow. 

The anxious little rabbit looked this way and that way, 
but all he could see was a tiny speck in the blue sky as 
the old robber bird flew swiftly away. 

Just then the bunny boy noticed another speck in the 
sky, only larger and of a different shape. 

“What is that?” he asked himself, hoping it might be 
the kind American Eagle who had once befriended him. 

But no, it was not. No, indeed, it was something very, 
very different. Oh, my, yes, I should say so. 

As there was nothing to be gained by standing still 
on the Sunny Meadow, the dis-con-so-late (which means 
hopelessly unhappy, little readers) bunny boy rabbit 
hopped away until, all of a sudden, just like that, he al¬ 
most bumped into the Farmer’s Boy, who was holding a 


TIMMIE MEADOWMOUSE 


6 7 

long string that rose up and up and up into the air until 
it ended in a queer shaped something with a long tail that 
swung to and fro as Billy Breeze laughed and whistled 
across the white cloud meadows of the sky. 

Yes, sir, Little Jack Rabbit almost bumped into the 
Farmer’s Boy. You see, the little bunny, looking up into 
the sky as he hopped along, had paid little attention to his 
feet. 

“Hello!” exclaimed the Farmer’s Boy. “Your eyes 
are filled with tears. What’s the matter, little rabbit?” 

“Oh, dear, oh, dear!” cried the little bunny. “Hungry 
Hawk has carried off little Timmie Meadowmouse.” 

“Where to?” asked the Farmer’s Boy, curiously. 

“Do you see that little speck?” asked the sorrowful lit¬ 
tle rabbit, pointing upward. 

“Yes,” answered the Farmer’s Boy. “Just to the right 
of my kite. Yes, I see it.” 

“That’s Hungry Hawk,” sobbed the little bunny boy. 
“He has Timmie Meadowmouse in his claws.” 

“Fm sorry,” answered the Farmer’s Boy, and then, all 
of a sudden, he started to run across the Sunny Meadow, 
pulling in the kite string at the same time. For a moment 
Little Jack Rabbit was too surprised to move. Then 
away he hopped after the Farmer’s Boy. You see, the lit¬ 
tle bunny was so sorry for the poor little mouse that he 
forgot all about his fear of the Farmer’s Boy. Yes, in¬ 
deed, that’s what sorrow does sometimes, and maybe 
oftener. When we are sorry for some one else we often 
forget our own troubles. 


68 LITTLE JACK RABBIT’S BIG BLUE BOOK 

By the time the little rabbit had caught up to the Farm¬ 
er’s Boy there was a great commotion going on ’way 
up in the big blue sky. Oh, my, yes. I tell you what, 
that Farmer’s Boy was a clever fellow. He hadn’t lived 
on a farm all his life for nothing. No, indeed. He had 
taught himself things which the old schoolmaster never 
dreamed of as he sat at his desk in the little red school 
house on the hill, where the children’s feet were never 
still. My, how strangely that boy behaved! Suddenly he 
would dash off to the right, then away to the left; then 
backward, next forward, sometimes letting out the string, 
or winding it up again. 

“What is he doing?” thought the little bunny boy, 
gazing up into the sky at the big kite, which seemed only 
a trifle larger than Hungry Hawk. Oh, dear, I’m so wor¬ 
ried for fear that poor little mouse will be eaten by that 
dreadful old robber bird. 

All of a sudden the Farmer’s Boy, with a yell of de¬ 
light, started to run backward as fast as he could go. “I’ve 
got you! I’ve got you!” he kept shouting, as he pulled 
in the kite, hand over hand. 

“What do you mean?” asked Little Jack Rabbit, all 
a-tremble, hopping about on one leg. 

“I’ve caught the old hawk in my kite! I’m pulling 
him down, you betcher!” answered the Farmer’s Boy, as 
he carefully pulled in the string hand over hand, taking 
care to keep the string taut lest by a sudden slip backward 
the kite might untangle itself from the struggling bird. 


TIMMIE MEADOWMOUSE 


69 

As the good home-made, brown paper kite slowly de¬ 
scended the little rabbit boy could make out the figure of 
Hungry Hawk pressed tight against the frame, his wings 
entangled in the face-strings. 

“Ha, ha!” laughed the Farmer’s Boy. “If I only had 
four hands and my gun along, I’d shoot the old bird from 
here.” 

“No, you wouldn’t,” cried the little bunny boy rabbit. 
“You might hit Timmie Meadowmouse.” 

“Like enough. Never thought about it,” answered 
the Farmer’s Boy. “Mebbe it’s just as well the old gun 
is home.” 

By this time the kite was just overhead. Billy Breeze 
was helping all he could. He blew hard and strong, with 
a steady pressure, keeping the big brown paper kite from 
dipping. Maybe he was laughing at the old robber bird! 
Just then a little black figure dropped on a pile of hay on 
the Sunny Meadow. 

“It’s Timmie Meadowmouse!” shouted the little bunny 
boy, but the Farmer’s Boy was so intent on his job he 
never turned his head. No, siree. He had all he could 
do to manage the kite. Frantically beating his wings, the 
old hawk wiggled and jiggled, this way and that, vainly 
trying to free himself from the clinging tied-together 
pieces of rags that formed the rudder to the big brown 
kite. 

But, dear me! Just as the Farmer’s Boy reached up 
to grasp the fierce bird, either Billy Breeze forgot him- 


70 LITTLE JACK RABBIT’S BIG BLUE BOOK 

self, or the good old kite could stand the strain no longer, 
or something gave way, a string or two, maybe a knot. 
All of a sudden, with a wiggle and jiggle, Hungry Hawk 
slipped out and sailed away, up and up, across the Big 
Red Barn to the freedom of the open sky. 

Yes, away he went. And, oh, dear me! 

I’m sorry that crafty old bird is free, 

Much like a trouble that’s over to-day 
With another one waiting us over the way. 

But mother will teach you what to do, 

So don’t be afraid of a trouble or two. 

















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BUNNY TALE 8 


INVITATIONS 

“Have you heard the news?” asked the Old Brown 
Horse. 

“What news?” enquired Little Jack Rabbit, hopping 
along with the friendly steed under the warm rays of Mr. 
Merry Sun in the Big Blue Sky. 

“Why, the circus is at Turnip City,” answered the 
Old Brown Horse. “The Circus Elephant, the funny 
clowns, and the roller skating bears.” 

“Oh, oh, oh!” exclaimed the little rabbit. “I want to 
see them.” 

“You don’t mean to say you’ve never been to the cir¬ 
cus !” whinnied the good Old Horse. “Well, you’ve got a 
treat.” 


“Oh, take me to the Circus 
To see the elephants dance! 

Oh, take me to the Circus 
Where the horses neigh and prance; 

Where all the clowns make funny jokes 
And try to tease the Circus Folks,” 

begged the little bunny, hopping back into the Old Bram¬ 
ble Patch. 


71 


72 LITTLE JACK RABBIT’S BIG BLUE BOOK 

“So you’d like to go to the circus, eh?” asked Mr. 
Rabbit, winking at Lady Love, who was making Turnip 
Tea for Old Mrs. Bunny. 



“Please take me,” begged the little rabbit. 

“All right, I’ll hire the Billy Goat Stage Coach to take 
us, and maybe a few friends,” answered Mr. Rabbit, and 
up he hopped to call dear Uncle Lucky on the telephone: 





INVITATIONS 


73 


“Central, give me Clover Dell, 

One, two, three, ring Happy Bell.” 

“Hello, hello, who’s calling me? 

The wire’s buzzing like a bee,” 

answered the old gentleman rabbit. 

“Listen, Uncle Lucky! I’m hiring the Billy Goat 
Stage Coach to take us all to your circus at Turnip City,” 
explained Mr. Rabbit. 

“Well, I’ll come over with a bushel of passes,” an¬ 
swered the dear generous old gentleman bunny. “What 
time do you go?” 

“At seven o’clock to-morrow morning. We must get 
an early start,” answered Mr. Rabbit. 

“Now, whom shall we invite?” he enquired, turning 
to his small bunny son, who was hopping about, so happy 
to know he was going to the circus to see the animals and 
the clowns, and maybe a monkey and a bear and a Mexi¬ 
can dog without any hair. 

“Whom shall we invite?” repeated Mr. Rabbit. 

“All your friends and all my friends, and maybe some 
more,” answered the bunny boy with a hop, skip and jump 
out on the porch of the little white house in the Old Bram¬ 
ble Patch. 

Just then the little canary bird in her gold cage began 
to twitter: 


The birds within the Shady Wood 
And on the Meadow Green, 


74 LITTLE JACK RABBIT’S BIG BLUE BOOK 

Are building nests of twigs and strings 
And moss pressed in between. 

But I’m content within my cage 
To sing my sweetest song. 

For discontent, my little boy, 

Will often set you wrong.” 

“I’m not discontented,” replied the little bunny boy, 
“I’m happy. Father is going to take me to the circus,” 
and he hopped down the path through the bramble bushes. 

“Timmie Meadowmouse, Timmie Meadowmouse!” 

“What do you want?” asked the tiny mouse, peeking 
out of his little round house of woven grass. 

“Want to go to the circus? Father is going to hire the 
Billy Goat Stage. We start at 7 to-morrow morning.” 

“I’ll be up bright and early,” answered Timmie Mead¬ 
owmouse, darting back into his little house to get out his 
best Sunday-go-to-meeting suit. 

“Timmie Meadowmouse will go,” cried Little Jack 
Rabbit, hopping back into the house. 

“Nobody will refuse, I imagine,” laughed Lady Love. 
“Whom else have you invited?” 

“I’m going over to the Barnyard,” answered Little 
Jack Rabbit. “I’ll invite everybody I meet,” and off he 
hopped. By and by, after a while, but not nearly a mile, 
he spied Granddaddy Bullfrog on his big log near the 
bank of the Old Duck Pond. 

“Oh, Granddaddy Bullfrog! Father is going to hire 


INVITATIONS 


75 


the Billy Goat Stage Coach to take us all to the circus 
to-morrow morning. We start at 7, right after breakfast. 
Will you come along?” 

“To be sure I will,” answered the old frog. “I haven’t 
been to the circus for a long time. Hurrah! I’ll be a kid 
again and eat a ton of peanuts—maybe!” 

“Be at the Old Bramble Patch on time,” shouted the 
little rabbit, who by this time was half across the Sunny 
Meadow on his merry way. 

“Hello, hello! What brings you here?” 

Asked the Weathercock from on high. 

Always first to spy anything 
With his wonderful look-out eye.' 

“I’m inviting all my friends to the circus,” replied the 
little bunny, with a happy laugh. “We all leave to-mor¬ 
row morning at 7, right after breakfast. Where’s Cocky 
Doodle?” 

“Here I am,” crowed the little rooster. “I heard you. 
I’ll go to the circus. Many thanks.” 

“Cackle, cackle, what do you think, 

This morning the sky was yellow and pink. 

Mr. Merry Sun was just out of bed— 

His nightcap crinkled all over his head,” 

cackled Henny Jenny, who had just laid a pretty white 
egg in her little round nest. 


76 LITTLE JACK RABBIT’S BIG BLUE BOOK 

“Will you come to my circus party?” asked Little Jack 
Rabbit. “We start to-morrow morning at seven from the 
Old Bramble Patch. Father has hired the Billy Goat 
Stage Coach to take us all to Uncle Lucky’s Circus at 
Turnip City.” 

“Oh, yes, I’ll wear my nicest dress 
And my pinky coral comb. 

You’ll surely bring me back again, 

For it’s very far from home.” 

“Of course we will,” answered Little Jack Rabbit. 

“Don’t forget me,” cried Goosey Lucy. 

“Will you come?” asked the little bunny. 

“To be sure,” answered the nice lady goose. “Don’t 
forget Ducky Waddles.” 

“Where is he?” asked the bunny boy, looking here 
and there and everywhere. 

“He went for a swim in the Old Duck Pond,” an¬ 
swered Henny Jenny. 

“Why, I just came from there,” replied the little bunny. 
“I didn’t see him. I saw only Granddaddy Bullfrog.” 

“Well, you see him now,” quacked a familiar voice, 
and there stood Ducky Waddles himself. He had just 
waddled around from behind the Big Red Barn. 

“Will you come to my circus party?” asked Little Jack 
Rabbit. 

“I couldn’t refuse,” laughed the nice little duck. 

Now, I wonder next who will be invited to the Circus. 


INVITATIONS 


77 


Listen, and you shall hear, for the little bunny has just 
hopped around the Big Haystack. 

“Mrs. Cow, won’t you come to the circus?” 

“Where is it?” enquired that nice lady cow, whipping 
her tail to and fro to scare away the flies. “I can’t go far 
for my little baby calf needs me ’most all the time.” 

“At Turnip City,” answered Little Jack Rabbit. 

“Oh, dear! You must excuse me,” replied Mrs. Cow. 
“That’s too far away. I’ll wait for Uncle Lucky’s Circus 
to come to Rabbitville. But thank you, just the same.” 

“Now, who else?” thought the little bunny, when, all 
of a sudden, he spied Turkey Tim. 

“Won’t you come to my circus party?” 

“Yes, indeed,” answered the big turkey gobbler. 
“What time, and where, and how?” 

“To-morrow morning at seven o’clock we all go in 
the Billy Goat Stage Coach. Be on time at the Old Bram¬ 
ble Patch,” and away hopped Little Jack Rabbit, his long 
ears catching the turkey gobbler’s poetry answer: 

“I’ll be there before it’s seven, 

I’ll be first of the umpty-’leven.” 

Pretty soon the little bunny spied Squirrel Nutcracker 
in his gray fur suit, sitting on a tree stump in the Shady 
Forest. 

“Oh, won’t you be glad when you hear what I’m going 
to say,” laughed the rabbit boy. 

“Hurry up and tell me,” cried the curious squirrel. 


78 LITTLE JACK RABBIT’S BIG BLUE BOOK 

“I’m giving a circus party,” answered Little Jack Rab¬ 
bit. “And we’ve hired the Billy Goat Stage Coach to take 
us all down to the circus at Turnip City. Want to come 
along?” 



“Well, I guess yes three times!” answered Squirrel 
Nutcracker, springing up from the log to dance about on 
his hind legs. “It’s a whole year since I’ve been to the 
circus.” 

“Well then, be at the Old Bramble Patch to-morrow 
morning at seven,” replied the little bunny, and away he 
went, clipperty clip, lipperty lip, up the winding trail to 
the cave of the Big Brown Bear. 






INVITATIONS 


79 


“Hello, hello!” shouted the little rabbit. 

“What’s the matter?” enquired a deep, growly voice, 
and Mr. Bear came to the door, over which hung a big 
sign; 

LOLLYPOPS AND HONEY. 

“What can I do for you, bunny boy? 

Do you wish a lollypop for a toy?” 

he asked, his growly voice changing into a nice friendly 
voice on seeing the little bunny. 

“I’d like a lollypop,” answered the little rabbit, “but I 
don’t want to play with it—I’ll eat it.” 

“All right,” laughed the Big Brown Bear, shuffling 
into his cave for a yellow lollypop with little raisins on the 
top. 

“I’m giving a circus party,” explained the bunny boy, 
sitting down beside the Big Brown Bear. “Want to 
come?” 

“Well, I should say so,” answered the big kind animal. 
“I have a cousin who skates on wheels in Uncle Lucky’s 
circus. I’d like to see him.” 

“Well then, be at the Old Bramble Patch to-morrow 
at seven in the early morning. We’re all going in the 
Billy Goat Stage Coach. Won’t we have fun?” 

“More fun than a bagful of monkeys,” answered the 
Big Brown Bear, filling his pipe with dry corncob silk 
and puffing away for maybe a minute and maybe more, 
while the smoke curled up to the top of the door. 


80 LITTLE JACK RABBIT’S BIG BLUE BOOK 

“Who else is going?” 

“Oh, everybody,” answered Little Jack Rabbit. 
“Granddaddy Bullfrog, Henny Jenny, Cocky Doodle, 
Turkey Tim, Goosey Lucy, Ducky Waddles, Timmie 
Meadowmouse, Chippy Chipmunk, and lots more whom 
I haven’t yet invited.” 

“Will the Billy Goat Stage Coach hold them all?” 
asked the Big Brown Bear re-flec-tive-ly, which means 
“thinking it over,” dear little boys and girls. 

“I guess so,” answered Little Jack Rabbit. “Some can 
sit on top and some under the seats and some on the seats, 
and—oh, yes, I’m sure it will hold us all.” 

“All right, I’ll be on time, for 

I love the clowns and the sawdust ring, 

In fact, I love ’most everything 
That’s in the circus and round about; 

The lion’s roar and the elephant’s shout, 

The pistol shot and the cracking whip, 

And the chariot driver’s furious clip,” 

sang the Big Brown Bear. 

“I’ll be looking for you,” said the little rabbit, as he 
hopped away to invite more of his Shady Forest friends. 
In a little while he came to the Forest Pool. There sat 
Busy Beaver on the mud roof of his little house, happy 
and contented, for the day was warm and bright and he 
had slumbered well all night. 

On seeing the little rabbit, he dived into the water and 
swam over to the bank. 


INVITATIONS 


81 


“Hello, what brings you here?” he asked, for some¬ 
thing in the little rabbit’s manner told him there was a 
surprise in store. 

“Give you three guesses,” laughed the little bunny. 
“Three guesses and then two more.” 

“Danny Fox been caught?” 

“No,” answered Little Jack Rabbit. 

“Mr. Wicked Weasel in jail?” 

“No,” answered Little Jack Rabbit. 

“Chippy Chipmunk has the measles?” 

“No,” replied Little Jack Rabbit, with a shake of his 
head. 

“Well, what is it, then?” asked Busy Beaver. 

“Circus Party!” shouted the little bunny. “I’m giving 
a circus party at Turnip City. Have you been to Uncle 
Lucky’s Circus?” 

“Not yet,” replied the little beaver. 

“Be sure to come to the Old Bramble Patch at seven 
to-morrow morning. We’re all going down in the Billy 
Goat Stage Coach. So be on time and don’t forget, for 
we’ll have a jolly time, you bet,” and away hopped the 
little rabbit to invite other friends in the Shady Forest. 

In a little while, not so very far, he met Peter Possum 
and his family. 

“Won’t you all come to my circus party?” asked the 
bunny boy. 

“What time?” enquired the old Possum. 

“To-morrow morning at seven the Billy Goat Stage 
Coach will be at the Old Bramble Patch. So be on time 


82 LITTLE JACK RABBIT’S BIG BLUE BOOK 

and don’t be late, for we’ll not have a minute to wait,” 
shouted the little rabbit, hopping swiftly away to find 
another friend, and maybe two, for his circus party. 

“I wonder whether Professor Crow would like to 
come,” thought the little bunny. “Maybe he’ll be pleased 
to be invited. Anyway, there’s no harm in asking him.” 

“What’s the matter? Any one ill? 

Doctor Quack has a wonderful pill,” 

shouted the old Professor Bird looking out of his window 
as the bunny boy knocked on the tiny door in the Tall 
Pine Tree. 

“I don’t need Dr. Quack, the famous duck doctor,” he 
answered. “I’m giving a circus party. Won’t you and 
Mrs. Crow and Blackie Crow come? We start to-mor¬ 
row morning at seven right after breakfast from the Old 
Bramble Patch. The Billy Goat Stage Coach will take us 
all to Turnip City where the circus people are giving a 
show. I’m sure little Blackie will love to go.” 

“We all will,” answered Professor Crow. “It makes 
me feel young again just to think of it. Thank you. 
We’ll be on time.” 


BUNNY TALE 9 


THE CIRCUS 

Goodness gracious me! That Billy Goat Stage Coach 
will be dreadfully crowded if Little Jack Rabbit invites 
many more friends to his circus party. Of course, when 
you come to think it over, the birds can perch on the roof 
and the little animals crawl under the seats; maybe one or 
two might sit with the stage coach driver, the nice Old Dog 
who smokes a big pipe while holding the reins in his left 
paw and the whip in his right. Oh, he’s a good driver, so 
kind and gentle that the billy goat team will do anything 
for him. 

“Dear me, I mustn’t forget a single friend,” thought 
the little rabbit, as he hopped over the Bubbling Brook 
and across the Sunny Meadow to the Old Brush Heap. 

Up the well-worn little path he hurried, clipperty clip, 
lipperty lip, to Cousin Cottontail’s little bungalow under 
the trailing green vines. 

“Cousin Cottontail,” he shouted, “where are you?” 

“We’re here,” came the answer, and out popped all 
the little cottontails, one after another—five in all, their 
pink noses twinkling like so many little stars. 

“I’m giving a circus party to-morrow,” said Little 

Jack Rabbit. “Want to come?” 

83 


84 LITTLE JACK RABBIT’S BIG BLUE BOOK 

Gracious me! I don’t see why he thought it neces¬ 
sary to ask five little bunnies if they wanted to go to the 
circus! 

“Of course we do,” they all shouted at once, which 
brought Mrs. Cottontail to the door to find out what all 
the noise was about. 

“What time do you start?” she asked. 

“At seven to-morrow morning. We all go in the Billy 
Goat Stage Coach,” explained Little Jack Rabbit. 
“Please be on time, for if we don’t get an early start we 
may not reach Turnip City in time to see the Grand Pa¬ 
rade of all the Queer People.” 

“We’ll be over bright and early,” promised Mrs. Cot¬ 
tontail. “Don’t you worry about us. Maybe some of 
your other friends will keep you waiting, but not your old 
auntie.” 

Pretty soon she brought out an apronful of nice cook¬ 
ies, just hot out of the oven. 

Oh, what a nice feast all the little rabbits had! Nor 
did they forget to save the crumbs for Bobbie Redvest, 
who happened to pass by later on. 

“Well, I guess I must be going,” sighed Little Jack 
Rabbit, when the last cookie was gone. “Mother will 
worry if I’m late for supper.” And away he hopped, clip- 
perty clip, lipperty lip, down the little path under the Big 
Brush Heap and across the Pleasant Meadow to the 
Bubbling Brook, over which he hopped to the Sunny 
Meadow. At last he was safe home in the dear Old 
Bramble Patch, eating a nice supper of stewed lollypops. 


THE CIRCUS 85 

It seemed to him that he had hardly jumped into bed 
and fallen asleep when: 

“Wake up, wake up! It’s almost time 
For the Billy Goat Stage to be here. 

Will I have to climb to your little bedroom 
And shout it out loud in your ear?” 

sang the cuckoo bird from her pretty clock house. 

Out of bed hopped Lady Love and Mr. Rabbit; off 
came Grandma Bunny’s night cap, and in less time than 
I can take to tell it they were all dressed and in the kitchen, 
eating a breakfast of lollypop porridge, turnip tea and 
carrot cakes with maple syrup. 

“All aboard for Turnip Town 
To see the elephant and the clown; 

It’s miles and miles to Turnip Square, 

We must start now if we want to get there,” 

all of a sudden barked the Old Dog Driver atop the Billy 
Goat Stage Coach. 

“Wait a minute,” begged Grandmother Magpie. 

“I’m coming,” panted the Big Brown Bear. 

“Here I am,” called out Granddaddy Bullfrog. 

“I’m on time,” laughed Cousin Cottontail, with her 
five little bunnies hopping after her. 

“Who said I was late?” cackled Henny Jenny. 

“Good morning, I’m here,” said Turkey Tim. 


86 LITTLE JACK RABBIT’S BIG BLUE BOOK 

“Is there room enough for me?” asked Timmie Mead- 
owmouse. 

“I’ll sit on top,” sang Bobbie Redvest. 

“So will I,” said Squirrel Nutcracker. 

“And that’s where I’ll sit,” said pretty Mrs. Oriole. 

“I’m with you,” cawed Professor Jim Crow, seating 
himself with his family. 

“Room for one more?” asked Ducky Waddles. 

“I was nearly late,” cried Cocky Doodle. 

“Let me squeeze in,” crowed the Old Red Rooster. 

“Don’t step on us,” chirped the Three Little Grass¬ 
hoppers. 

“Nor on me,” squeaked little Miss Cricket. 

“Hold on, .I’m getting in,” barked the Yellow Dog 
Tramp. 

“I ran all the way,” panted Busy Beaver. 

“So did I,” said Chippy Chipmunk. 

“Any more?” asked the Old Dog Driver. 

“Yes, yes!” shouted dear Uncle Lucky. “I’m going,” 
and the dear old gentleman rabbit hopped out of his 
Luckymobile and into the Stage Coach. 

“I guess everybody’s here,” said Mr. Rabbit. 

“Who’s that coming across the meadows?” asked the 
lady bunny, looking out of the stage coach window. 

“Why, bless my pink tie and horseshoe pin,” exclaimed 
Uncle Lucky, “it’s Goosey Lucy.” 

As soon as she was aboard, the Old Dog Driver 
cracked his whip and away they went to Turnip City to 
see Uncle Lucky’s wonderful circus. 


THE CIRCUS 


8 7 


Over the bumps and over the stones, 

While the lollypops rattled the ice-cream cones, 
Went the Billy Goat Stage Coach with a quiver 
Till at last it reached the Sippi River. 

“Whoa!” shouted the Old Dog Driver, pulling in his 
team of billy goats. “Whoa!” and this time he said it so 
loud that an old duck waddled out of a little house close 
to the bridge gate. 

“My gracious!” she quacked, “you have a load, all 
right. I never saw so many animals and birds in a stage 
coach before, and I’m an old duck. Oh, yes, I’m as old as 
a good many great-great-grandmothers.” 

“What is the toll?” asked the Old Dog Driver, light¬ 
ing his pipe and puffing out a cloud of smoke. 

“Five carrot cents for the stage coach, ten carrot cents 
for the Billy Goat Team, two carrot cents for yourself, 
and three carrot cents for each passenger,” answered the 
old lady duck. 

“Dear me,” whined the Old Dog Driver, “it will take 
some time to count it all up. How will a lettuce leaf dol¬ 
lar bill suit you?” 

“Won’t do,” answered the old lady duck. My, wasn’t 
she particular, though? 

“Well then, let’s start counting,” sighed the Old Dog 
Driver. “You count those on top and I’ll count those in¬ 
side, and who gets done first, wins.” 

“Wins what?” asked the old Lady Duck. 

“A Little Jack Rabbit Book,” laughed the Old Dog 


88 LITTLE JACK RABBIT’S BIG BLUE BOOK 

Driver. “I have one in my pocket for your little grand 
duckling. Hurry up and win.” 

Then, goodness me! How that lady duck did count! 
In less than five hundred short seconds she had finished 
and the Old Dog Driver had only just begun. 

Well, sir, when it came to pay, the toll was more than a 
lettuce leaf dollar bill. Dear me, yes. But what it was I 
won’t bother to tell you, for I haven’t had time to count 
the passengers. Have you? 

As soon as the toll gate swung open, over the bridge, 
pranced the billy goats, rapperty rap, rapperty rap, and 
before very long they were galloping up a steep hill, for 
those billy goats didn’t mind that. No, siree! They 
were used to climbing mountains and, besides, everybody 
was singing: 

“I want to go to the Circus, 

To see the elephants dance. 

I want to run round the sawdust ring 
In my very best Sunday pants. 

I’m crazy to sip the pink lemonade, 

Oh, get me in time for the Big Parade! 

Oh, hurry up faster, for I am afraid 
I’ll surely go crazy if we are delayed!” 

My goodness! how that Billy Goat Coach rolled over 
the pebbles and over the stones. And how those billy goats 
pranced and threw out their heels, shook their heads and 
their long horns. 


THE CIRCUS 


“Gid-ap!” barked the Old Dog Driver. 

“Let ’er go!” shouted dear Uncle Lucky. 

Away, faster than ever, and faster still, went the billy 
goats up the big steep hill, and down the other side to Rab- 
bitville. 

Along Lettuce Avenue they clattered, past the Three- 
in-One Cent Store, past the Welsh Rarebit Club and the 
Post Office, from the doorway of which the Old Maid 
Grasshopper waved a white pocket handkerchief; past the 
Old Mill where the Dusty Moth Miller ground the corn 
for the farmer bunnies; past the house of Dr. Quack, the 
famous duck doctor, and the little green house in which 
Mrs. Mouse lived. 

Dear me! I could go on and on just like the old coach, 
and say so much that I’d have no room to put in what hap¬ 
pened when it finally drew up in Turnip City. 

“Whoa there, my good little billy goats!” shouted the 
Old Dog Driver, as the big Policeman Dog held up his 
paw to stop the taxis and wagons until everybody was safe 
on the sidewalk. Then the Old Dog Driver gave the 
billy goats a nice drink of water at the fountain and drove 
around to the wagon entrance on Cabbage Street. 

Well, it didn’t take the Shady Forest and Sunny 
Meadow people long to walk into the tent. Uncle Lucky 
headed the procession, Little Jack Rabbit next, then 
Grandma Bunny and Lady Love, Mr. Rabbit and the Big 
Brown Bear, until, way down at the end, waddled Ducky 
Waddles. 

“Quack, quack! Please hurry!” he begged, begin- 


90 LITTLE JACK RABBIT’S BIG BLUE BOOK 

ning to fear the circus would be over by the time he en¬ 
tered the tent. 

But he needn’t have worried, for the Old Dog Driver 
had arrived early. 

“Come on, Timmie Meadowmouse,” cried the little 
bunny, “I must see the animals.” 

Pretty soon they came to a little tent. They didn’t 
know it belonged to the Circus Queen, the lovely lady 
dressed in gauze and gold spangles, who rode on the big 
white horse. 

There she sat on a circus trunk, holding in her arms 
a little baby. 

“Hush-a-by, hush-a-by, 

Little Boy Blue, 

Mother is singing 
A dream song to you. 

Some day you’ll grow 
To be a big Clown, 

And you’ll make ’em laugh 
In city and town. 

But I’ll love you best, 

If you’ll whisper ‘Goo, goo.’ 

To help me remember 
How little were you.” 

“Gracious me!” she exclaimed in a whisper on seeing 


THE CIRCUS 


9i 


Little Jack Rabbit and Timmie Meadowmouse, “am I 
dreaming? Maybe I’m in By-low Land!” 

“No, m’am,” answered the little bunny, taking off his 
khaki cap, “I hear them calling you!” 



Sure enough, a man’s voice was shouting, “Liz, oh, 
Liz! Liz, Liz!” 

“I’m coming,” answered the Circus Queen, tenderly 
placing the sleeping baby in its cradle. 

Just outside stood a big white horse, and before the lit¬ 
tle bunny could say “Oh! Ah!” she was riding into the 
big tent. “Hurrah! Hurray! Here’s Lizzie Gray, she’s 









92 LITTLE JACK RABBIT’S BIG BLUE BOOK 

riding better every day!” clapped and shouted all the peo¬ 
ple. 

But nobody knew she was a loving mother nor that 
just outside in the little tent slept Boy Blue. 

All of a sudden the band struck up and a funny clown 
began to sing: 

“Uncle Lucky’s Big Star Show, 

That’s our circus name, 

From Lettuce Square to Everywhere 
We play the circus game. 

Over the tanbark in the ring 
I turn a somersault or a spring, 

And then I give a merry laugh 
That tickles to death the big giraffe.” 

After that the big parade went around the ring, pretty 
girls dressed up as butterflies, elephants gayly decorated 
with diamond chains, camels carrying gorgeously gowned 
ladies, big floats with funny little dwarfs. Everything 
you can think of, and lots of things you’d never dream of. 

My, wasn’t it fun. Well, I guess yes three times, and 
maybe four. I’m sure I can’t count, I’m so excited just 
writing about the circus. 

For I’m still a boy I’ll let you know, 

And I’m never too tired or fagged to go 
To see the circus. Not me, you bet! 

If it hadn’t closed down I’d be there yet. 


THE CIRCUS 


93 


“Hurrah!” shouted Little Jack Rabbit. “There’s the 
circus Queen!” 

“Hurray!” shouted the Big Brown Bear, and the next 
minute he shouted it three times for the trained bear had 
begun to roller skate. 



“The trained bear had begun to roller skate.” 


Goodness me! How the Shady Forest Folk and the 
Sunny Meadow People enjoyed it all. Even Grand¬ 
mother Magpie smiled and clapped her wings. As for 
Granddaddy Bullfrog, he hip-hurrayed until he grew so 
husky that he didn’t make a sound when he opened his 
mouth. 









94 LITTLE JACK RABBIT’S BIG BLUE BOOK 

By and by, after a while, the show ended and Little 
Jack Rabbit’s Circus Party marched out and into the Billy 
Goat Stage Coach. 

“Good-by, come again next year!” cried the big Po¬ 
liceman Dog on the street corner. 

“Much obliged,” answered Uncle Lucky, waving his 
old wedding stovepipe hat. “We’ll be back inside a year, 
see you keep the crossing clear; let no taxi run us down 
when we come to Turnip Town.” 

Then away rattled the stage coach, the two little billy 
goats prancing up Lettuce Avenue as gayly as you please. 

“Toot, toot!” went the ferryboat whistle, as it neared 
the river. “Hurry up!” it seemed to say. So the Old Dog 
Driver cracked his whip over the heads of the billy goats 
and in a few minutes all were on board. 

“Tinkle, tinkle!” sounded the bell, the big paddle 
wheels commenced to turn, and in less time than I can take 
to tell it the ferryboat was half across the River Sippi, and 
almost before dear Uncle Lucky could get his shoes shined 
it bumped into the ferry slip. 

“Well, well, well! Here we are!” exclaimed the dear 
old gentleman rabbit, when the Billy Goat Stage Coach at 
last drew up before the Old Bramble Patch; 

“There’s no place like home, 

Be it ever so humble,” 

Said the little gold bee 
With a buzz and a bumble. 


THE CIRCUS 


95 


In a few minutes the coach was empty and as soon as 
the little people of the forest and meadow had thanked 
Little Jack Rabbit for a good time, they either hopped or 
ran or flew to their homes. Pretty soon there was nobody 
left, so the happy rabbit family hopped into the little white 
house in the Old Bramble Patch. In a few minutes the 
nice old lady bunny and Lady Love had prepared a nice 
hot supper. 

“I declare,” exclaimed Uncle Lucky, setting down his 
cup of hot turnip tea, “that certainly was the best circus 
I’ve been to in many a year.” 

“I’ll tell the world,” agreed Little Jack Rabbit. 

“What do you know about circuses, you little bunny?” 
laughed the funny old gentleman rabbit. “This is the first 
time you’ve ever been to one.” 

“That doesn’t matter,” answered the little bunny. 
“I’ve dreamed about them many a time, and some dreams 
are very real.” 

“Make your dreams come true— 

Dreams are part of you,” 

softly twittered the little canary. 

“That reminds me of a story,” mused dear Uncle 
Lucky, pushing up his spectacles and settling himself 
comfortably in the old arm chair: 

“Once upon a time a little bird in a blue coat sat on an 
Old Snake Fence. All around him the earth was dingy, 


96 LITTLE JACK RABBIT’S BIG BLUE BOOK 

the trees bare and leafless. The chilly wind kept little 
patches of snow still lingering in the shady hollow places. 
But all this didn’t keep the brave little bird from whistling 
merrily, for in his heart he held a dream of summer, red 
roses and green woods, grassy meadows and little hills cov¬ 
ered with wild strawberries. 

“So he sang his song of promise to his mate while she 
made a comfortable nest in a dry hole in a fence post. By 
and by, when it was finished, she filled it with pretty eggs, 
on which she sat to warm them with her feathers. And 
while she sat there she, too, dreamed—dreamed of four 
little bluebirds. 

“As the sun grew warmer and the meadow greener and 
the forest more leafy, one by one the little bluebirds broke 
open the shells. 

“ ‘Tirel loo, tirel loo, 

Make your happy dreams come true. 

See, the spring has come again 
With the sunshine after rain, 

And beneath the mother’s breast 
Four blue birdies in the nest,’ 

sang the Bluebird from the top rail of the Old Snake 
Fence. There,” said dear Uncle Lucky, “that’s all 1” 


BUNNY TALE 10 


THE CIRCUS ELEPHANT 

For days nobody talked of anything but the Circus 
party. From bush and tree in the Shady Forest, from hol¬ 
low and hill in the Sunny Meadow, the Little Feathered 
and Fourfooted Folk were telling over and over again the 
wonderful things they had seen at the circus. 

“Gracious me,” chuckled the Big Brown Bear, “that 
cousin of mine certainly can roller skate.” 

“Well, he was no better than my relative who flew 
through the ring of flames,” cried Professor Jim Crow. 

“Nor any braver than my nephew who fired the pistol. 
That pup was some dog!” barked the Yellow Dog Tramp, 
wagging his tail. 

“Well, just the same, Fm glad to be back on my old 
log,” said Granddaddy Bullfrog. “There’s always some¬ 
thing going on in the Old Duck Pond. If it isn’t a perch 
chasing a minnow, it’s Ducky Waddles. Mrs. Darning 
Needle is never idle and the little tadpoles make me laugh.” 

After a week, however, every one settled down again. 
Little Jack Rabbit had almost forgotten that he’d ever 
been to a circus when one day just about noontime, who 
should come along but the Big Circus Elephant. Dear 
me, how tired he looked! His coat was covered with dust 
and there was a dent in the little hat on the top of his 

97 


98 LITTLE JACK RABBIT’S BIG BLUE BOOK 

head. I suppose in coming through the Shady Forest the 
big animal had brushed against a branch. 

“Whew, I’m tired!” he cried, sitting down under the 
Big Chestnut Tree near which Chippy Chipmunk had his 
home. “It’s a long way from Turnip City.” 



“Yes, indeed,” agreed Little Jack Rabbit, hopping up 
beside him. “How long did it take you?” 

“Two days and forty-four miles,” answered the tired 
Elephant. “But I’m here at last. So let’s forget troubles 
and look ahead, as my good mother used to say when I was 
a kid in Jungle Land.” 







THE CIRCUS ELEPHANT 


99 


“Are you hungry?” asked Little Jack Rabbit. “I have 
two lollypops and a custard pie in my knapsack.” 

“Let’s look at ’em,” answered the Elephant, taking off 
his hat to wipe his forehead with a pocket handkerchief 
as large as a table cloth. 

“Here they are,” said the little bunny. 

“Look pretty nice,” grunted the Circus Elephant, care¬ 
fully holding the pie with the little finger on the end of 
his trunk. “Tastes just as good. Got any more?” 

“No, but Mother bakes to-day,” answered the bunny 
boy, “perhaps she’ll bake a big one for you.” 

When the Elephant had finished the lollypops he felt 
better, so he said, and, taking off his hat, he leaned against 
the Big Chestnut Tree and fell asleep. 

“My goodness! It takes an elephant a long time to 
wake up,” thought the little rabbit, when at last his big 
circus friend opened his eyes. 

“Nothing like a little nap,” yawned the great big ani¬ 
mal, rubbing his ear and stretching his hind legs. After 
that he yawned again, turning up his trunk to get a good 
long breath of fresh air. 

“I dreamed you were handing me a peanut.” 

“My, but you snored,” sighed Little Jack Rabbit. “I 
couldn’t go to sleep until I pretended you were a big en¬ 
gine in a lollypop factory.” 

“Ha, ha!” laughed the Circus Elephant. “That re¬ 
minds me. Didn’t you say it was baking day at the Old 
Bramble Patch?” 

“I did,” replied the bunny boy. 


IOO LITTLE JACK RABBIT’S BIG BLUE BOOK 

“All right, we’ll make a call on your mother,” said the 
Circus Elephant, scrambling to his feet. “How do I 
look?” he asked, straightening his bow tie. 

“Very nice,” answered Little Jack Rabbit, “except 
your trousers. They’re all covered with bits of dry leaves.” 

“So they are,” said the Circus Elephant, looking down. 
“Have you a whisk broom?” 

The little bunny opened his knapsack and, taking out 
a small broom, carefully brushed off the big Elephant. 

“I can’t reach your hip-pocket,” he said, standing on 
tiptoe. 

“Here, give me the broom,” said the Circus Elephant, 
and, grasping the handle in his trunk, he dusted himself 
off as well as Mister Rastus Coon, the kind porter on the 
“Cabbage” Pullman Car, brushes a sleepy passenger. 

“Now I’ll lift you up on my back,” and the next minute 
Little Jack Rabbit found himself riding off on the big 
animal. 

By and by, after a while, and maybe a mile and a bump 
and a smile, they met Old Man Weasel. But Little Jack 
Rabbit wasn’t afraid. Oh, dear, no! Why should he be? 
He was way up high on the Circus Elephant’s broad 
back. Old Man Weasel couldn’t reach up that far, not 
even if he stood on tiptoe. 

“Get out of my way,” roared the big Elephant. 

“You’re blocking up the path.” 

“Where are you going?” snarled Old Man Weasel, 
stepping aside. My, didn’t he look ugly! Well, I just 
guess he did. But that didn’t do him any good. 


THE CIRCUS ELEPHANT 


IOI 


“Never you mind,” replied the Circus Elephant. 
“You’re no friend of ours.” 

“If you meet a wicked weasel 
And you are all alone, 

You get a creepy feeling 
Along your spinal bone. 

But if you have an elephant 
To guard you with his trunk, 

You laugh at Mr. Weasel,” 

Sang naughty Sammy Skunk 

from his Shady Forest house. 

“Oh, keep quiet, will you?” snapped the Old Weasel. 
“Why should he?” asked the big Circus Elephant. 
“He speaks the truth. Can’t say that about you!” 

“Ha, ha!” laughed Little Jack Rabbit. “Won’t Uncle 
Lucky smile when I tell him what has happened?” 

“I’ve a good mind to bite you,” cried Old Man Weasel, 
glaring at Sammy Skunk. 

“You’d better not,” replied Sammy Skunk. “You 
know what I’ll do to you.” 

Of course Old Man Weasel did, and so did all the 
Shady Forest Folk. But if they don’t meddle with Sammy 
Skunk he treats them very politely. Yes, indeed. 

“Well, so long,” sang out the big Circus Elephant. 
“We’ve no more time to talk,” and off he went at a rapid 
pace, and by and by, after a while, not nearly a mile, with 


ioa LITTLE JACK RABBIT’S BIG BLUE BOOK 

a bump and a smile, he stopped at the gate in the old Rail 
Fence. 

“I’ll take down the bars,” he said. “I guess Mrs. Cow 
won’t try to get out while we’re walking in.” 

“Oh, no,” answered Little Jack Rabbit. “She likes 
the Sunny Meadow. Besides, she is way over there,” point¬ 
ing toward the Old Duck Pond. “She won’t bother us.” 

After the big Circus Elephant had put back the bars 
he followed the Old Cow Path through the Sunny Meadow 
to the Old Bramble Patch in the far corner of the Old 
Rail Fence. Setting the little rabbit down, he wiped his 
forehead with a big blue silk handkerchief nearly as large 
as a sheet. 

“When does your mother take the cake from the 
oven?” he asked, with a funny wink, looking at his watch. 

“When it’s done,” replied the little rabbit. 

“I’ll sit here and wait,” said the big Circus Elephant. 
So the little bunny hopped into the Old Bramble Patch 
and around to the back door of the little white bungalow. 

Dear me, I almost forgot to say that Lady Love, the 
little bunny’s pretty mother, was baking angel cake that 
particular day. 

Pretty soon the little rabbit hopped back to his big 
kind friend with a piece of cake almost as big as a soda 
cracker. 

“Dear, dear,” cried the disappointed circus animal, 
“this may be enough for a rabbit but, goodness me! and 
dearest you! it isn’t a swallow for me!” 

“I’ll go back for another piece,” said the little bunny, 













THE CIRCUS ELEPHANT 


103 


and away he hopped up the little path and around to the 
kitchen door. But, oh, dear me! If only he had not 
stopped to speak to Timmie Meadowmouse. Just then 
down swooped Hungry Hawk. Into an old hollow log 
slipped the little mouse, but before the poor little rabbit 
could hide this cruel bird robber picked him up in his 
claws and flew away toward the Shady Forest. 

“Help, help!” shouted Little Jack Rabbit. 

Hopping out on the kitchen porch, poor Lady Love 
looked up to the sky. But that’s all she could do. She had 
no wings to fly after her little son. And, anyway, how 
could she, a gentle lady bunny, fight a big cruel hawk! 

But the Circus Elephant on hearing the little bunny’s 
cries, answered with a loud trumpet and set off at a run 
for the Shady Forest. My, you’d be surprised how fast 
an elephant can run when he wants to! 

Wrinkling his forehead, he pondered what to do. All 
of a sudden he remembered the big long lasso in his 
pocket. Quickly coiling it cow-boy fashion, he let it go, 
Zip! And would you believe it if I didn’t tell you? The 
noose fell right over the old hawk’s head and around his 
neck just like the muffler my Uncle John used to wear 
when I was a boy down on the farm. 

“Now I’ll bring you down!” cried the Circus Elephant. 
But, oh, dearest me! Quicker than the bills on the first 
of the month that crafty old robber hawk gave his head 
a wiggle-jiggle and off came the noose. 

“Ha, ha!” shouted Hungry Hawk, and away he flew 
with poor little Jack Rabbit. 


BUNNY TALE 11 


THE LITTLE MOUNTAIN GOAT 

“Oh, dear, oh, dear, what shall I do? 

I’ll never get him with my old lasso 1” 

Cried the Circus Elephant with a sigh, 

As he looked at Hungry Hawk on high. 

Now I hope you haven’t forgotten what just took place. 
How Hungry Hawk had picked up poor Little Jack Rab¬ 
bit. Of course you haven’t! Nor how the big kind Circus 
Elephant had almost caught this bad robber bird with a 
long lasso. 

But, dear me! I wonder what is happening to Little 
Jack Rabbit all this time. Maybe the cruel hawk has eaten 
him for dinner or supper or maybe breakfast. 

“Well, I’m not going to give up hope,” said the big 
Elephant to himself, again setting off after Hungry Hawk, 
who now could hardly be made out up in the sky so far 
away. 

By and by the Elephant came to a mountain. My, but 
it was a steep old mountain. Right up and down—almost 
straight, you know. “Dear me!” almost sobbed the anx¬ 
ious circus animal, sitting down to consider the best thing 
to do—climb up the mountain or walk around it. 

104 


THE LITTLE MOUNTAIN GOAT 


105 

“Right on the top of this mountain’s crest 
Hungry Hawk has his castle nest,” 

all of a sudden, just like that, shouted a voice. 

“Who spoke?” asked the Elephant, mighty anxious 
to find out quickly if there were a road up this steep, high 
mountain. 

“Look!” answered the same kind voice, and the next 
minute a little white mountain goat stood before him. 

“Oh, I’m so glad you’re a mountain goat,” laughed the 
big animal. “I’m so glad I could cry. Maybe you can 
climb up and rescue my Little Jack Rabbit.” 

“I can’t fight old Hungry Hawk,” answered the little 
Mountain Goat. “He’s too strong for me.” 

“Dear, dear, dearest me!” cried the poor distracted 
Elephant, “then how can we save my little bunny friend?” 

“I can help you climb the mountain,” answered the 
little Mountain Goat. 

“Me?” enquired the big animal. “How could you 
help a great big elephant up this steep, right-up-and-down, 
mountain, I should like to know.” 

“That won’t be so hard,” answered the little Mountain 
Goat. “Give me your lasso.” 

Throwing the loop over his horns, the little Mountain 
Goat started to climb up the mountain side. First he 
jumped to a ledge of rock, then scrambled up sideways, 
then sideVvays the other way, then another jump, and per¬ 
haps two, and then a scramble. 

After working his way up almost as far as the length 


io6 LITTLE JACK RABBIT’S BIG BLUE BOOK 

of the long rope, he braced his forefeet against a rock and 
called down: “Pull yourself up with your trunk!” 

Well, sir, that’s just what that big kind anxious Circus 
Elephant did. He took hold of that rope with his trunk 
and up he went, hand over hand—I mean trunk over 
trunk—just like a fireman, and by and by, pretty soon, 
not so very quick, he stood beside the little Mountain 
Goat. 

“Good for you,” exclaimed that plucky little animal, 
as the Elephant took out his big pocket handkerchief to 
wipe his forehead. “You came up all right. Now wait 
here while I climb up higher.” Up and up went the lit¬ 
tle Mountain Goat, now sideways, now straight; now the 
other way sideways, then a jump and a scramble, or a 
scramble and a jump, or two jumps, or two scrambles 
till, by and by, not so pretty soon, but after a while, he 
called down; “Come on, pull yourself up!” 

Then up went the big Circus Elephant trunk over 
trunk—now slipping and sprawling, or sprawling and 
slipping till, by and by, after a while, out of breath, with a 
dusty smile, he stood by the side of the little Mountain 
Goat. 

“Good for you! Now wait here till I go up. Don’t 
slip, but stand still.” And away went this nimble little 
goat up, up, up; now sideways, this way and that; now 
up straight; then slanting, right and left, criss-cross, with 
a jump and a leap, or a scramble and a scrumble, making 
the pebbles fly downward, and sometimes a big rock, till, 


THE LITTLE MOUNTAIN GOAT 


107 


by and by, after a while, up nearly a mile, he called down: 

“Come on, pull yourself up!” 

Again bracing his front feet, the little mountain goat 
held on to the long rope, the loop of which was over his 
strong little horns, you know, until the Elephant had 
drawn himself up. 

“Whew!” exclaimed the big animal. “Aren’t we ’most 
there?” 

“Almost,” answered the little Mountain Goat, and up 
he went again. When at last he reached the top the big 
Elephant could hardly touch the end of the lasso, and 
then only by standing up on his hind legs and stretching 
’way up with his trunk. But he just could, all right. So 
up he went, trunk over trunk, scrambling and tugging 
and panting and puffing, till by and by, after a while, and 
it seemed like a mile, he stood by the side of the little goat 
on the tip-top of the mountain. 

Dearest me, I thought the little Mountain Goat and the 
big kind Circus Elephant would never reach the mountain 
top, didn’t you? I’m mighty glad, for now I’ll have more 
room to tell you what happened as soon as they saw the 
nest to which old Hungry Hawk had carried Little Jack 
Rabbit. 

“There he is,” whispered the Elephant, who had won¬ 
derful far-sighted eyes. 

“Where?” asked the little goat in another whisper, 
only of course it was much softer than the Elephant’s. 

“Don’t you see?” replied the big animal. 


108 LITTLE JACK RABBIT’S BIG BLUE BOOK 

“Oh, yes, now I do,” answered the little Mountain 
Goat. “That is, I can just see the tips of his ears.” 

“Dear me, how can I get over to him without Hungry 
Hawk seeing me?” asked the big anxious Elephant. 

“Hide behind this rock,” advised the little goat. “I’ll 
skip about and maybe Hungry Hawk will go for me. If 
he does, I’ll jump behind the rock and you can grab him 
with your long trunk.” 

“Good idea,” laughed the Elephant softly. “You’ve 
got quite a head under your horns. Yes, sireebus!” 

Then with a gentle shuffle he tip-toed behind the rock 
and the little Mountain Goat went skip-toeing, hipperty- 
hop, over toward the big nest. 

All of a sudden there was a great whirring of wings 
and up flew Hungry Hawk, circling just above the little 
goat, stretching down his long sharp claws, opening his 
great bill and clapping it together with a snap. 

“Bleat, bleat!” went the little Mountain Goat, pretend¬ 
ing he was frightened. Then back he turned and skip¬ 
toed over to the big rock. 

“Ha, ha!” thought Hungry Hawk to himself. “I’ll 
have a nice tender little goat for dinner. Little Jack Rab¬ 
bit is only big enough for supper.” 

Perhaps the little goat heard old Hungry Hawk, for he 
gave two more little bleats and hid behind the great big 
stone. 

“Ha, ha!” again laughed Hungry Hawk. “I’ll dash 
down behind that rock and grab that little goat before 
he can wink his left eye three times!” 


THE LITTLE MOUNTAIN GOAT 


109 


Whish, whish! went the big robber bird’s wings, and 
swish! swish! went his long tail as he swung around the 
corner of the big rock. 

Then something happened. Oh, my, what a scuffle 
there was for the next few minutes! Goodness me! The 
air was full of funny squawky noises and feathers were 
flying here and there and everywhere! For no sooner 
had Hungry Hawk flown around the big rock to catch 
the little Mountain Goat than the Circus Elephant reached 
out his long trunk, catching by the neck that wicked bird 
before he could turn away. 

Goodness me! again. How Hungry Hawk flapped his 
wings and wiggled his tail and clawed with his long hooked 
toes! But that didn’t do a bit of good. Dear me, no! It 
only made matters worse, for the harder he struggled the 
more the Elephant swung him around until, goodness 
knows, he would have lost every feather if he hadn’t begged 
in a squeaky, stifled voice to be allowed to sit down and 
talk matters over. 

“Talk matters over?” grunted the Elephant, holding 
on to the tip of the old hawk’s tail, “what’s the use? I’m 
going to take Little Jack Rabbit home with me. As for 
you, I’ve a good notion to whack your head against the 
rock till you see stars and comets.” 

“Oh, please don’t,” begged Hungry Hawk, “I’ve had 
enough banging for a year. I’ll give you Little Jack Rab¬ 
bit and a cigar coupon if you’ll let me go.” 

“Come along with me till I see if the little bunny is 
safe and well,” answered the big circus animal, and he 


Iio LITTLE JACK RABBIT’S BIG BLUE BOOK 

and the little Mountain Goat walked over to the old 
hawk’s nest. There stood poor little Jack Rabbit tied fast 
to a ring in the big rock. He was so glad to see his dear 
friend the Elephant that he almost cried—maybe he did 
shed a tear or three and perhaps four. 

Well, sir. Troubles weren’t over, just the same. For 
now they all had to climb down the high, steep and straight 
mountain side. 

“Get on my back, little bunny,” said the kind Circus 
Elephant. I’ll go down backwards the same as I came up 
frontwards, only different.” 

Then the little Mountain Goat braced his forefeet 
against the rock and the big elephant took hold of the 
lasso, the loop end of which was over the little goat’s 
horns, you know, and down the side of the steep moun¬ 
tain slid the big animal, first one foot, then two, then 
three and finally four, and when he reached the end of 
the rope he waited for the little Mountain Goat to come 
down, and then they started all over again. The lit¬ 
tle Mountain Goat braced his feet against the rock and 
the big elephant took hold of the rope and slid and slid 
and scrambled and scrambled, or jiggled and rumbled, 
down and down, until he came to the end of the long las¬ 
so. 

“My goodness meebus, that was a high mountain,” 
gasped the Circus Elephant, when at last his hind feet 
touched the level meadow. “Really, I thought I’d never 
get down.” 

“Oh, that’s nothing,” laughed the little Mountain Goat, 


THE LITTLE MOUNTAIN GOAT 


iii 


shaking his head till the lasso fell off his horns. “I run 
up and down sometimes three times a day.” 

“All right, but don’t ask me to,” replied the Elephant. 
“Although I’d do it all over again for Little Jack Rabbit’s 
sake.” 



A tiny light appeared in the distance. 


“Oh, won’t I be glad to get home to mother,” sighed 
the little bunny. “I was so frightened up there on the 
mountain top with Hungry Hawk. Dear, dear me! Have 
I been dreaming?” 

“No, not this time,” answered the big circus animal. 


















112 LITTLE JACK RABBIT’S BIG BLUE BOOK 

“But, cheer up! I’ll take you home in a jiffy,” and saying 
good-by to the little Mountain Goat he trotted off at a rapid 
rate. 

By and by it grew dark. Oh, yes, very dark. You 
couldn’t see your hand behind your face. So the Circus 
Elephant stopped to think what was best to do. He was 
afraid, you see, that he might bump into something or 
other or be arrested by the Policeman Dog. One can never 
tell on a dark night what may happen. 

Pretty soon a tiny light appeared in the distance. Then 
it came nearer and nearer, but never growing much larger. 
Wasn’t that strange and queer? 

“My tiny lantern in the dark 
Throws just a little twinkle spark. 

But maybe it will help you see 
Danny Fox behind a tree,” 

cried a little voice. 

And that’s just what it did, for the little firefly swung 
her tiny lantern to and fro until the big elephant said all 
of a sudden: 

“I see him!” Which so frightened the old robber that 
he turned and fled. 

“Go ahead, little firefly. I’ll follow if you don’t go out,” 
went on the big brave circus animal. 

“Never fear,” answered the little firefly. “I have a tiny 
electric bulb in my lantern. You don’t think I use a 
flickery candle, do you?” 


THE LITTLE MOUNTAIN GOAT 


ii3 


“Bend your head or maybe you’ll be brushed off my 
back,” warned the Circus Elephant, following the tiny 
light. So Little Jack Rabbit lay flat down on the big ani¬ 
mal’s back and away they went through the darkness, in 
and out among the forest trees, while Billy Breeze sang a 
sleepy song about rocking chairs and tick-tocky clocks 
and tired feet and little pink socks. 


BUNNY TALE 12 


THE RESCUE 

The Firefly with her little light 
Went twinkling through the quiet night. 

In and out among the trees 

She fluttered ’neath the whispering leaves, 

Until at last with wondrous sense 
She lighted on the Old Rail Fence. 

“Here we are,” exclaimed the Circus Elephant, taking 
down the bars and stepping into the Sunny Meadow, 
“here we are, safe home at last.” 

But Little Jack Rabbit never answered a word. 

“He must be asleep,” thought the kind Circus Ele¬ 
phant. “I won’t wake him up,” and off he trotted to the 
Old Bramble Patch. There stood Lady Love and Mr. 
Rabbit at the gate, anxiously waiting for the return of their 
little bunny son. 

“Here he is,” laughed the big animal. 

“Where?” asked Lady Love. 

“Why, on my back, of course,” answered the Circus 
Elephant. 

“I don’t see him,” said Mr. Rabbit. 

“Nor I,” cried Lady Love, tearfully. 

“Not on my back?” shouted the big kind circus beast, 


THE RESCUE 


”5 

stretching around his big trunk to feel behind his great 
ears. But the little rabbit wasn’t there. 

“Oh, dear, oh, dear!” cried Lady Love, “he’s lost.” 

“Don’t cry,” begged Mr. Rabbit. “We’ll find him, 
never fear,” and hopping back into the little bungalow, he 
came out in a minute or two with a lantern. At once they 
all set out for the Shady Forest. All of a sudden Old 
Barney Owl tooted his horn. 

“I don’t like that,” cried Mr. Rabbit; “owls are fond 
of little rabbits.” 

“Come on, let’s run,” whispered the big Elephant. 
“Maybe we can scare the old bird,” and off he trotted at a 
rapid rate, the little bunnies hopping along, clipperty clip, 
lipperty lip, and the big circus animal bumperty bump, 
bumperty bump on his four large feet. 

Pretty soon again from a big tall tree sounded the old 
owl’s toot! toot! toot! Quick as a wink the Circus Ele¬ 
phant pushed his trunk up into the branches and the next 
minute down came Old Barney Owl. The Elephant, you 
see, had grabbed him before he could fly away. 

“What have you done with Little Jack Rabbit?” he 
asked, shaking the old bird until his teeth—I beg pardon, 
I mean his feathers—almost fell out. 

“Oh, please don’t shake me till I’m blue 
And lose my feather whiskers, too,” 

Cried Barney Owl, all out of breath, 

And frightened nearly half to death. 

“I haven’t done anything with him.” 


ii6 LITTLE JACK RABBIT’S BIG BLUE BOOK 

“Yes, you have,” shouted the two little rabbits. 

“Of course you have,” said the elephant, “now confess.” 

But Old Barney Owl answered: “No, no, no! I haven’t 
even seen Little Jack Rabbit!” 

“Well, you come along and help us find him,” said 
the Circus Elephant, and off they started again, the two 
little bunnies ahead, then the big Elephant and Old Barney 
Owl. 

By and by whom should they meet but Old Man 
Weasel. He tried not to show himself, but before the old 
four-footed, tip-toey thief could hide he was made to an¬ 
swer a lot of questions. 

“What have you done with Little Jack Rabbit?” asked 
the big Circus Elephant. 

“What have you done with our little son?” demanded 
Mr. Rabbit and Lady Love. 

“I haven’t seen him,” answered Old Man Weasel. 

“Are you telling the truth?” asked the Elephant. 

“I certainly am,” answered the old weasel. “I wouldn’t 
be hanging around here if I had caught a nice fat little 
bunny.” 

“Well, you come along with us. That will keep you 
out of mischief. When we’ve found Little Jack Rabbit 
you can go home to your wife,” answered the big Elephant. 

So off again started the party, Old Barney Owl ahead, 
next the two little rabbits, then the big Elephant and Old 
Man Weasel. 

All of a sudden, just like that, there sounded a mourn- 


THE RESCUE 


ii 7 

ful howl Oh, dear me! but it was a hair-raising, teeth- 
chattering, goosey-flesh kind of a cry. 

“What’s that?” asked Lady Love, with a shiver. 
“Mr. Wicked Wolf,” replied the big Elephant, with a 
loud trumpet. At once Mr. Wicked Wolf answered with 
a dismal howl. Then the Elephant trumpeted again. 

“Mr. Wicked Wolf has a dismal howl 
And a big red mouth and an angry scowl, 

His teeth are long and sharp and thin, 

Oh, your knees knock together when you see him grin,” 

whispered Old Barney Owl, as a dark shadow crept in and 
out among the trees. 

“What have you done with Little Jack Rabbit?” de¬ 
manded the big Circus Elephant. 

“I haven’t seen him,” answered Mr. Wicked Wolf. 
“Yes, you have,” cried Lady Love. 

“What do you know about it?” snarled the old wolf. 
“If the big Elephant weren’t around I’d make you keep 
quiet.” 

“That’s enough,” said the Elephant, reaching out his 
trunk to tweak Mr. Wicked Wolf’s ear. “Don’t get gay 
around here. You come along and help find the little 
rabbit. You’ll be out of mischief while with us and if we 
don’t find him pretty soon, I’ll put you and Old Man 
Weasel and Old Barney Owl in a big bag and shake you 
up and down and all around till your bones rattle 1” 


ii8 LITTLE JACK RABBIT'S BIG BLUE BOOK 

Then off again started the party, Old Barney Owl in 
the lead, Mr. Wicked Wolf and Old Man Weasel next, 
then Mr. Rabbit and Lady Love, and last of all, the big 
Circus Elephant. Every once in a while he’d swing his 
long lasso, cow-boy fashion, around Mr. Wicked Wolf, 
or pull up Old Man Weasel with a sharp jerk. And now 
and then, so’s not to let Old Barney Owl feel lonesome, 
he’d drop the noose around that old night bird’s head and 
yank him over backwards. This kept these three bad peo¬ 
ple mighty well behaved, let me tell you, while looking for 
Little Jack Rabbit—or pretending to look for him. 

All of a sudden Danny Fox was seen sneaking behind 
a pile of brush. 

“Come here, you old chicken thief,” shouted the Ele¬ 
phant, and without waiting for the old fox to decide 
whether he would or not, the big Elephant threw the lasso 
over his head, pulling him in as nicely as you please. 

“Tell me what you’ve done with Little Jack Rabbit?” 
demanded the big circus animal, giving the rope a jerk 
to make the old fox answer quickly. 

“I haven’t seen him,” replied Danny Fox, with a whine. 
“I haven’t seen him for a long time.” 

“Yes, you have,” shouted the two little rabbits. 

“What have you done with Little Jack Rabbit?” once 
more demanded the Elephant, although he’d already twice 
asked Danny Fox that very same question. 

“I haven’t seen the little bunny,” again whined the old 
fox, “indeed, I am telling the truth.” 


































THE RESCUE 


119 

“You never told the truth in your life,” cried the big 
Elephant. “You’re an old chicken thief!” 

“Please, please, don’t jerk that rope,” begged Danny 
Fox. “It hurts my neck.” 

“Well, come along with us,” said the big circus ani¬ 
mal, “you may help us find Little Jack Rabbit. At any 
rate, we’ll know where you are,” and he made the old fox 
join the party. 

By and by, after a while, as they marched through the 
Shady Forest, looking here and peeking there, up and 
down and all around, they heard a little voice say; 

“I know where Little Jack Rabbit is.” 

“Where?” cried Lady Love. 

“Where?” shouted Mr. Rabbit. 

“Tell us quick,” cried the big Circus Elephant, hold¬ 
ing up his ears to catch the faint whisper. 

Then the little voice came again, only a little louder 
than before. 

“Over there by the Bubbling Brook, 

Where it turns and twists in the shady nook, 
Caught in between two little trees, 

Little Jack Rabbit is held by the knees.” 

“Thank you, little voice,” cried Lady Love, and away 
she hopped to the shady nook, followed by Mr. Rabbit 
and the rest—only the rest didn’t hop, they all ran, except 
Old Barney Owl, who flew. 


120 LITTLE JACK RABBIT’S BIG BLUE BOOK 

Pretty soon, not so very far, they reached the Bubbling 
Brook and, following it along, they hurried on until, all 
of a sudden, they heard Little Jack Rabbit calling for 
help. 

“Cheer up, my baby rabbit,” shouted Lady Love. 

Goodness me! how fast Lady Love hopped along until, 
quicker than a wink, she came to the two little trees. 

“Oh, my little bunny,” she sobbed. “Are you hurt?” 

“Maybe,” answered Little Jack Rabbit. “I’m not 
quite sure.” 

Just then up came the big Circus Elephant. Bending 
apart the two trees with his great strong trunk, he shouted: 

“Pull him out! pull him out!” 

But Little Jack Rabbit didn’t need any help. No, siree- 
mam. No sooner were the trees pushed apart than out he 
hopped all by himself right into Lady Love’s arms. And 
I guess that’s the nicest place to be when you’re hurt— 
right in mother’s arms. 

“Now all you old robbers can go home,” said the big 
circus animal. 

“Good-by,” said Old Man Weasel. 

“Good-by,” cried Mr. Wicked Wolf. 

“So long,” whined Danny Fox. 

“Tooty fruiti!” cried Old Barney Owl, and the next 
minute there was no one left but the three little rabbits 
and the big Circus Elephant. 

“Come here,” said the big kind animal and carefully 
picking up Little Jack Rabbit with his strong trunk, lifted 
him up on his back. 


THE RESCUE 


121 


“Now we’ll go home to the Old Bramble Patch,” and 
off he trotted, followed by Mr. Rabbit and Lady Love. 

By and by, after a while, and many a mile, they came 
to the Rail Fence. Crossing the Sunny Meadow, although 
of course it wasn’t sunny at this hour—night time, you 
know,—they soon reached the Old Bramble Patch. 

“Oh, I’m so happy,” laughed Lady Love, as the big 
elephant placed her little rabbit on the ground, “I’m so 
happy I don’t know how to thank you.” 

“Don’t,” replied the big kind animal. “Just let me 
know the next time you bake an Angel Cake—that’s all,” 
and off he trotted to the Shady Forest. 

“Good-by, old friend,” called Mr. Rabbit. 

“I’ll see you all again,” replied the Elephant. “But 
I must hurry, for to-morrow the circus closes in Turnip 
City, and I must be there to help take down the big tent.” 

It wasn’t long before all three little bunnies were sound 
asleep. Mr. Rabbit and Lady Love were tired out from 
their long search and Little Jack Rabbit,—well, he was 
tired and sleepy, anyway, as all small bunnies should be. 


BUNNY TALE 13 


DANNY FOX 

“Wake up, wake up, it’s breakfast time! 

The Old Red Rooster is crowing a rime, 

The doves on the roof are cooing away 
And Bobbie Redvest is singing his lay,” 

sang the musical alarm clock. 

Out of bed hopped Little Jack Rabbit and parting 
his hair down the middle of his back with a little chip, 
picked up his knapsack and hurried down to the break¬ 
fast table. 

Lady Love’s carrot coffee and lollypop porridge soon 
made the little bunny lose his appetite. Wasn’t that too 
bad? Well, I don’t know. I’d gladly lose my appetite for 
lollypop stew. 

“Where’s father?” he asked, wiping his lips on a nice 
clean lettuce leaf napkin. 

“Down at the Post Office,” answered his pretty mother. 
“He said for you to stay near the Old Bramble Patch until 
he got back. 

“All right,” answered the good little bunny. “May I 
go now, mother dear?” 

“Have you polished the front doorknob and fed the 


122 


DANNY FOX 


123 


canary and filled the woodbox?” she asked, with a smile. 
I guess she knew the little rabbit had forgotten all about 
his daily morning duties. 

“Dear, dear, I forgot,” cried the little bunny and, 
picking up the box of brass polish and a rag, he set to 
work on the doorknob. Pretty soon it looked like a golden 
ball under the bright beams of Mr. Merry Sun. Perhaps 
he thought he’d help the little rabbit. Who knows! 

Next the bunny boy fed the pretty canary in her little 
gold cage, which hung in the kitchen during the winter, 
but when the days grew warm and bright, on the front 
porch. After her tiny cup was filled with birdseed the 
little bunny hopped out to the woodpile. 

“Hello, there,” said the Old Red Rooster, whom Uncle 
Lucky had sent over to spade the kitchen garden and plant 
the vegetables, “how’s Little Jack Rabbit this morning?” 

“Oh, I’m all right,” answered the little bunny, picking 
up the hoe which the old fowl had left by the flower-bed. 
“I’m all right and I’m all glad and I’m fond of my mother 
and my dad.” 

“Whoa, there, Mr. Rabbit Poet!” cried the Old Red 
Rooster. “How do you get that way?” 

“I’ve been reading a poetry book,” answered the lit¬ 
tle bunny, handing a rose to Lady Love, who at that mo¬ 
ment hopped out to the garden. Pretty soon she went back 
in the kitchen. It’s mighty lucky that she did, for just then, 
all of a sudden, something happened. And it would have 
been quite dreadful if the Old Red Rooster hadn’t given 
a timely warning. Yes, sir, if, right then he hadn’t hollered 


124 LITTLE JACK RABBIT’S BIG BLUE BOOK 

“Look out!” there would be little use in my putting it in 
now. 

The moment the little bunny heard the warning he 
hopped through the window, quick as a wink. And it was 
mighty lucky that he did, for right there under the trees 
stood Danny Fox. 

“Good morning,” he said, with a smile. But it didn’t 
look like a smile to Little Jack Rabbit. Oh, dear, no! It 
looked like a great big white-toothed grin. That’s what 
it did, and I guess the little bunny was right. 

“I think it’s a bad morning,” replied Little Jack Rab¬ 
bit. “You’ve changed everything.” 

“Don’t say that,” whined Danny Fox. “What makes 
you so unfriendly?” 

“Never you mind, you old robber,” shouted the Old 
Red Rooster from the top of the woodshed, on which he 
had taken refuge. 

“Oh, you’re around,” snarled Danny Fox. “I thought 
you were working for Uncle Lucky Lefthindfoot, the old 
gentleman rabbit.” 

“Well, you’ve got another think,” replied the Old Red 
Rooster, “and if you don’t get out of here I’ll send a wire¬ 
less message to the Policeman Dog to put you in jail.” 

“Yes, you will,” sneered the old fox. “How are you 
going to send a message, I’d like to know.” 

“Ha, ha!” laughed the Old Red Rooster, with a jump 
and a big flap of his wings. And, would you believe it! he 
flew from the woodshed right over to the roof of the cow¬ 
shed next the Little Red Barn! Then up he jumped to 


DANNY FOX 125 

the little window overhead. That’s what he did, the wise 
old fowl. 

“I wonder what he’s going to do?” thought Danny 
Fox, beginning to grow uneasy. “I wonder what he’s up 
to?” and again the old fox looked here and there, fearing 
some trick was to be sprung upon him. 



“I won’t hop out till Danny Fox goes home.” 


“Cock-a-doodle do!” all of a sudden shouted the Old 
Red Rooster. 

“What do you want?” asked Lady Love, looking out 
of the attic window. But on seeing Danny Fox she al¬ 
most fainted. 

“Don’t worry, mother,” cried Little Jack Rabbit, “I’m 


















126 LITTLE JACK RABBIT’S BIG BLUE BOOK 

safe in the kitchen. I won’t hop out till Danny Fox goes 
home.” 

“Ha, ha!” laughed that old robber, “maybe I’ll wait 
here till the 4th of July.” 

“Oh, dear! Oh, dear!” cried the little rabbit’s mother, 
anxiously, “please go away, Danny Fox.” 

“No, siree!” answered that wicked animal. “I shall 
stay right here for a year and a day, and maybe I’ll never 
go away.” 

Now wasn’t that a dreadful thing to hear? Well, I 
guess it was. But just you wait a minute. I think the Old 
Red Rooster up in the loft of the Little Red Barn will 
do something, and do it mighty quick, let me tell you. 

“Hello, hello!” he shouted, all of a sudden, just like 
that, from the tiny window of the Little Red Barn. 

“I’m listening,” answered Lady Love from the attic. 

“I hear you,” called out Little Jack Rabbit from the 
kitchen. But Danny Fox didn’t say a word. 

“Something’s going to happen in a minute,” shouted 
the Old Red Rooster. “Yes, sireebus, something’s going 
to happen!” 

“I wonder what?” thought Danny Fox, looking this 
way and that way and every other way. But he saw noth¬ 
ing, except the grass waving in the Sunny Meadow and 
the treetops bending in the Shady Forest. 

Pretty soon he looked up at Lady Love, then at the 
Old Red Rooster. What were they doing? And why 
was the Old Red Rooster waving his pocket handkerchief? 
And why was Lady Love nodding her head? 


DANNY FOX 


127 


“Dear, dear!” thought the old fox, “are they crazy?” 

Just then, all of a sudden, just like that, quicker than 
bills on the first of the month, over the Old Rail Fence 
jumped the Policeman Dog, the Yellow Dog Tramp, the 
Stagecoach Dog Driver, the Billy Goat Ferryman, the Big 
Brown Bear and dear Uncle Lucky, the old gentleman 
rabbit. 

“O-o-o-o!” whined Danny Fox, looking for a way to 
escape. By the woodpile stood the Policeman Dog, a few 
feet away the Yellow Dog Tramp, over by the Little Red 
Barn the Stagecoach Dog; by the kitchen door the Billy 
Goat Ferryman, at the Old Rail Fence the Big Brown 
Bear and a few hops away, dear Uncle Lucky. 

“O-o-o-o,” again whined Danny Fox. He felt some¬ 
thing was- going to happen to him. He knew the Police¬ 
man Dog, the Yellow Dog Tramp, the Stagecoach Dog 
Driver, the Billy Goat Ferryman, the Big Brown Bear 
and dear Uncle Lucky, the old gentleman bunny, hadn’t 
jumped over the Old Rail Fence for fun, but he didn’t 
know that the Old Red Rooster had sent for them on the 
radio. 

Yes, siree, something was, and is, going to happen to 
that dreadful fox, for, quick as a wink, they all closed in on 
him and before he could say a word or two or three, but 
no more, the Policeman Dog snapped a pair of handcuffs 
over his front paws. 

“Now, old Danny Fox, you’ll go 
To jail in just a minute, 


128 LITTLE JACK RABBIT’S BIG BLUE BOOK 

And there you’ll stay for many a day 
Securely locked up in it,” 

sang the Policeman Dog, swinging his club up and down 
just like the leader of the orchestra in “Uncle Tom’s 
Cabin.” 

“I hope you’ll keep him there for even longer,” said 
the old gentleman bunny. “He’s always after Little Jack 
Rabbit and me. Just the other day he nearly caught up 
to the Luckymobile. If he had, he would have bitten the 
tires. 

“He’s forever hanging around the ferryslip, waiting 
for a chance to grab Grandmother Goose on her way 
home,” said the Billy Goat Ferryman. “I never cross the 
river in my ferryboat but what I see him sneaking along 
the shore.” 

“He’s always trying to hold-up my stagecoach and 
rob the passengers,” cried the Old Dog Driver, taking his 
pipe out of his mouth. “Only last week a little pig pas¬ 
senger nearly died of fright when he pointed his pistol 
at her.” 

“He’s a bad lot,” said the Yellow Dog Tramp. “I 
often see him stealing chickens from the farmyards.” 

“He’d better keep away from my Cozy Cave,” growled 
the Big Brown Bear. “If I ever catch him stealing lolly- 
pops I’ll break every bone in his body.” 

“Do you hear what they say about you?” asked the 
Policeman Dog, giving Danny Fox a good shake. 

“Please let me go,” begged the old fox, “I’ve two lit- 


DANNY FOX 


129 


tie boys at home who will miss Daddy Fox if he isn’t home 
for supper.” 

“Let him go,” begged the tender-hearted little bunny, 
“Bushytail and Slyboots will miss him so. They think he’s 
a lovely father.” 

“Well, what do you say?” asked the Policeman Dog, 
turning to Uncle Lucky. 

“Oh, let me go home to my den in the rocks, 

Bushytail will be watching for me, 

And Slyboots will stand at the old kitchen door 

While Mrs. Fox puts on the tea. 

The red table cloth will be spread nice and smooth, 

The platters, all shiny and white. 

Oh, what will they do with the nice oyster stew 

If Daddy Fox comes not to-night?” 

cried Danny Fox, tears falling from his eyes, as the Police¬ 
man Dog waited for Uncle Lucky’s answer. 

“Oh, pshaw,” cried dear kind Uncle Lucky, “let him 
go.” 

“I say so, too,” said the Yellow Dog Tramp. “That 
song reminds me of one my dear old mother used to sing 
before I left the farm to become a hobo doggie.” 

“Maybe from now on he’ll behave,” cried the Billy 
Goat Ferryman. “I have two little kids. I know how 
they’d feel if their daddy didn’t come home.” 

“Give the old fox another chance,” said the Old Dog 


i 3 o LITTLE JACK RABBIT’S BIG BLUE BOOK 

Stagecoach Driver. “I remember my two little bow-wows. 
We had a nice home in the country.” 

“I feel the same as you fellows,” cried the Big Brown 
Bear. “My two little cubs waited every night for me to 
tell them a bedtime story. They’re now in the circus, but 
I always think of them as little fellows. Let the old fox 
go for the sake of his two little boys.” 

“Do you hear what they all say?” asked the Policeman 
Dog. 

“Yes,” whined Danny Fox, and away he ran as soon 
as the Policeman Dog took off the handcuffs. 

“Perhaps he’ll behave for a while,” said the Old Red 
Rooster, flying down from the hayloft. “But it’s lucky 
for Little Jack Rabbit that I could call you all on the wire¬ 
less. Maybe that isn’t a wonderful invention.” 

“Come in and have some carrot cake and turnip tea,” 
begged Lady Love, hopping out on the kitchen porch. 

Pretty soon as they all sat around the table having a 
fine feast, the Yellow Tramp Dog stood up on his hind 
legs and barked, oh, so softly: 

“I’d go back to my boyhood day 
If I only knew the by-gone way. 

But I have changed since the Long Ago, 

With the summer wind and the winter snow, 

And my feet just miss the dear old lane 
Where the robin sings his sweet refrain, 

And the apple blossoms, white and pink, 

Fall in the nest of Bob-o-Link.” 


DANNY FOX 


131 

Some day, dear boys and girls, I shall write a story 
about the Yellow Dog Tramp. He just sort of rubs his 
nose against my knee as I write these stories. Yes, he 
looks up at me with big brown eyes that seem to say: 
“Tell the children to be kind to yellow dogs.” 

Dear children, never, never sling 
A stone at any living thing. 

The little bird that swiftly flies 
Up in the country of the skies, 

The friendly tabby cat that purrs 
And humps that glossy back of hers, 

The patient horse that draws the plough, 

The ever-generous mooley cow, 

Are all kind friends to you and me, 

Created by God’s charity. 


BUNNY TALE 14 

UNCLE LUCKY’S DREAM 

Oh, what shall I sing this lovely spring 
When all the sky’s aglow 

With the sun’s gold tint and the pure white glint 
Of clouds like drifts of snow. 

“Well, well, well,” exclaimed dear Uncle Lucky with 
a sigh, laying down his book, “that is a beautiful poem.” 
Pushing his spectacles back on his forehead, he was just 
about to sigh again when the telephone rang, One, two, 
three! Jingle, jingle, jingle! 

“Who’s that, I wonder?” he asked himself, taking 
up the receiver. 

“Hello, hello! Who’s calling me? 

“This is Rabbitville, one, two, three.” 

“Mr. Grizzly Bear is talking,” answered a deep, 
growly voice. 

“Well, I don’t care if he stops,” replied brave Uncle 
Lucky, “I don’t want to speak to him.” 

“But he wants to talk to you!” answered the deep, 
growly voice. 

“Dear Little Miss Mousie,” sighed Uncle Lucky, “why 
do disagreeable people call me on the ’phone? Why don’t 
they call up the Policeman Dog? Please lock the kitchen 

132 


UNCLE LUCKY’S DREAM 


i 33 


door.” And the poor old gentleman rabbit gave a great 
big sigh and, hanging up the receiver, hopped quickly 
around the house to lock every window, pulling down the 



shades and then stuffing up the fireplace with sofa cush¬ 
ions. 

“Now I guess nobody’ll get in,” he said, seating him¬ 
self by the pianola. All of a sudden it began to play; 

“Oh, the Grizzly Bear is a dreadful beast, 

His claws are sharp and long, 























134 LITTLE JACK RABBIT’S BIG BLUE BOOK 

And he gives a tug and then a hug 
While he sings a grizzly song; 

“ ‘Oh, I’m the beast with the terrible hug, 

G-r-r-r, g-r-r-r-r, G-R-R-R-R! 

I can break a stone and crack a bone 
And crumple a cracker jar!’ ” 

“Goodness me!” shouted Uncle Lucky, hopping up. 
“It’s bad enough to have a Grizzly Bear call you on the 
’phone, but to listen to a Grizzly Bear song on the pianola 
is too, too much,” and the dis-tract-ed old gentleman rab¬ 
bit hopped upstairs to his bed-room and looked out of the 
window. 

“Tooty fruiti!” shouted Old Barney Owl, just like 
that, so frightening poor Uncle Lucky that he closed the 
window with a bang and hopped into bed. But, dear me! 
again. No sooner had he pulled the coverlet up to his 
chin and tucked his long gray whiskers in, than a dread¬ 
ful knocking shook the door and rattled the carpet tacks 
in the floor! 

“Goodness gracious meebus!” whispered the old gen¬ 
tleman rabbit under his breath and under the crazyquilt 
over his head as he cuddled down tight in his old wooden 
bed. 

Again some one knocked on the door so hard that 
the doorknob came off and fell in the yard. 

“Who can that be? What shall I do? I’m afraid to 
open the door and I’m afraid not to. Which is the worst 


UNCLE LUCKY’S DREAM i 3S 

to do, for whatever I do, it will be that, all right, and all 
wrong!” 


“Make believe there’s no one home, 

Stay in bed and do not roam 
On your tiptoe ’round the house; 

Keep as quiet as a mouse,” 

whispered a little voice. 

“Who gives me such good advice?” asked the old gen¬ 
tleman rabbit in a trembly whisper. 

“Little Miss Mousie,” replied the tiny voice. “I crept 
out of my house and up the stairs to tell you to make be¬ 
lieve you’re not at home.” 

“You’re a good little friend,” answered Uncle Lucky. 

“You’re a good big friend,” laughed Little Miss 
Mousie, only very low, of course. “You let me stay all 
winter in the woodbox by the warm stove. You never 
charge me any rent and never let me spend a cent, you 
give me lollypops to eat and satin slippers for my feet.” 

“Do I really? I forgot all about the slippers, I de¬ 
clare,” cried the old gentleman rabbit, scratching his left 
hind ear with his right hind foot. “Maybe I’m growing 
old and full of forgetfulness,” and he sighed twice, and 
maybe three times more. 

Just then the knocking came again, and this time louder 
than the last time, and twice as loud as the first. 

“Keep your temper,” whispered the little mouse. 

“I guess thads the only thing I’ve got left,” cried poor 


136 LITTLE JACK RABBIT’S BIG BLUE BOOK 

Uncle Lucky. “I’ve lost my wits—I declare, I don’t know 
what to do.” 

“Don’t do anything,” advised the little mouse, “that’s 
what you agreed to do just a minute ago.” 

But goodness me! as she finished speaking there arose 
a dreadful commotion in the backyard of Uncle Lucky’s 
little white house. Dear me, it was tornadeous and hur- 
ricaneous. 

Please excuse me a moment. There’s so much noise 
I can’t even think what might happen if the Policeman 
Dog doesn’t arrive pretty soon and swing his club three 
or four times. 

There it goes! Yes, sir, I thought I’d hear it soon, if 
not before. Yes, it’s the Policeman Dog’s whistle. 

Out of his nice warm bed jumped Uncle Lucky and 
over to the window. The moonlight shone in like an au¬ 
tomobile lamp, almost blinding Little Miss Mousie by 
the door. For a moment it made the dear old gentleman 
rabbit wink his eyes and blink his nose. 

“Goodness gracious meebus! What is that big black 
shadow under the trees?” he whispered. 

Then all of a sudden, the whistle sounded again, only 
this time way off down the road. 

“What is the matter?” asked the old gentleman rab¬ 
bit, his legs trembling so that his pajamas wrinkled at the 
knees. “What is the matter, and what is that dark shadow 
under the trees, and why is the Policeman Dog whistling 
down the road? Why doesn’t he whistle under my window 
and make me feel comfortable?” 


UNCLE LUCKY’S DREAM 


137 


But no one answered him. Not even Little Miss 
Mousie, for she had hopped down to the kitchen to peek 
out under the door. Pretty soon the sound of the whistle 
came again, this time a little bit louder. After another 
minute or two, it sounded again, only fainter. 



“Dear, dear me, I’m so sorry for myself,” cried the poor 
old gentleman rabbit. “All this mystery is turning my 
hair white. What shall I do?” 

“I’ve caught him! I’ve caught him!” all of a sudden 
a voice shouted, and the next minute into the yard ran the 
Policeman Dog with Danny Fox by the collar. 






i 3 8 LITTLE JACK RABBIT’S BIG BLUE BOOK 

“Here’s the robber who knocked on your front door,” 
cried the noble police dog. 

“Put him in jail for a century!” shouted Uncle Lucky 
from his bedroom window. “I want my great, great, great, 
great grandchildren never to be annoyed by this old rob¬ 
ber!” 

“I’ll speak to the Judge about it,” answered the faith¬ 
ful Policeman Dog, as he drove away with Danny Fox 
in the patrol wagon. 

“Oh, I’m so relieved,” sighed the old gentleman rab¬ 
bit, “I’ll now go back to bed and sleep till the little green 
rooster toots his horn at half past three to-morrow morn,” 
and, hopping into his pink pajamas, he pulled the crazy 
quilt up to his chin and tucked his whiskers snugly in. 

Well, sir, and well, m’am. No sooner was the old gen¬ 
tleman rabbit sound asleep than the Dream Fairy looked 
in at the window. 

“I must give Uncle Lucky a pretty dream,” and softly 
flying in, she lighted on the foot of the bed. Taking from 
her little Vanity Bag a blue rose she waved it to and fro, 
back and forth and up and down, till Uncle Lucky began 
to dream. 

And what a lovely dream! Just wait till I tell it to you, 
dear boys and girls, for maybe when he wakes up he’ll 
forget all about it, as some people do, even as you and I. 

The dear old gentleman rabbit dreamed that he was 
a boy again, playing marbles with Uncle John Hare when, 
dearest me and dearest you! along came Mrs. Wild Cat. 


UNCLE LUCKY’S DREAM 


139 


“Meow, meow, meow!” she said. “Let me play with 
you.” 

Uncle John Hare looked at Uncle Lucky, and then 
they both looked at the Wild Cat. But what was the use 
of looking at her, or at each other, or at anything, for that 
matter. Goodness me! they were so frightened that their 
knees played tick took, tick tock, and their hair stood up 
straight, and if ever there were two scared little rabbits, 
it was Uncle John and Uncle Lucky. 

“What’s the matter with you two bunnies?” asked Mrs. 
Wild Cat. “Come, give me a shooter.” 

“Here, here’s—one!” gasped Uncle John. 

“You—can—have—mine,” faltered Uncle Lucky, 
“I’m tired. My thumb’s sore.” 

“Stuff and nonsense,” meowed Mrs. Wild Cat. “Come 
on and play!” 

But, oh, dear me! The two poor little bunnies missed 
every time and as Mrs. Wild Cat won every time, pretty 
soon she had all the marbles, as well as Uncle Lucky’s 
little bag and Uncle John’s little box. 

“What else have you?” asked the purring Wild Cat. 

“Nothing,” answered the bunny boy rabbits, “nothing, 
only a piece of chocolate cake and a lollypop.” 

“Give them to me,” said the purring Wild Cat! 

So what could each little bunny boy do but put his hand 
in his pocket and slowly draw out, Uncle John, the cake, 
and Uncle Lucky, the lollypop. 

“Ha, ha, meow!” cried Mrs. Wild Cat, “don’t they 


i4o LITTLE JACK RABBIT’S BIG BLUE BOOK 

look good. I love chocolate cake and lollypops, ice cream 
cones and pink gumdrops.” 

“Please don’t take everything we have,” cried Uncle 
Lucky, tearfully. 

“Give us back our marbles,” begged Uncle John Hare, 
with a sob. 

“No, I want to take them home to my little kittens,” 
answered Mrs. Wild Cat, reaching out her paw for the 
lollypop. 

“Wait just a minute, the stick has come out,” begged 
Uncle Lucky, leaning over to pick up the candy part. All 
of a sudden, just like that, he struck out with his strong 
hind feet, throwing the loose dirt into Mrs. Wild Cat’s 
eyes, and before she could open them the little rabbits had 
hopped into a hollow stump. 

“Meow, meow! Just wait till I wipe my eyes. I’ll 
show you what I’ll do,” Mrs. Wild Cat screamed. 

But, wasn’t it lucky? by that time the two little bunnies 
had found a tunnel leading away from the hollow stump. 
On and on they hopped until by and by, after a while, they 
found themselves out on the Sunny Meadow. 

“Whew, I’m glad to be rid of that dreadful cat,” ex¬ 
claimed Uncle Lucky. 

“So am I,” said Uncle John Hare. “But, dear me! 
we’ve lost our marbles!” 

Just then who should come along but Sic’em, the 
farmer’s dog. Of course in those days, when Uncle Lucky 
was a little boy and Uncle John Hare only a week older, 


UNCLE LUCKY’S DREAM 141 

Sic’em was a young dog. Oh, my, yes! And could run so 
fast that often his shadow was left a mile behind him! 

“Bow, wow, now I’ll catch you two little rabbits,” he 
barked, when—wasn’t it a relief? the old gentleman rabbit 
woke up with a start to find that he had been dreaming. 
But he didn’t see the Dream Fairy as she flew out of the 
window. No, siree! Dear Uncle Lucky was hardly wide 
awake enough for that! 


BUNNY TALE 15 


THE RADIO STORY 

“Well, well, well!” said Uncle Lucky, rubbing his 
eyes, “that was a queer dream. The idea of my dreaming 
I was a boy again, playing marbles with Uncle John Hare,” 
and, with a laugh, the old gentleman bunny jumped out 
of bed to look out of the window. It was early morning 
and the sky was pink and purple, yellow and red. The 
dew was sparkling on the grass and the trees were whis¬ 
pering to one another. 

All of a sudden “Cock-a-doodle-do!” went the Old Red 
Rooster over by the barn. And then a robin began to sing 
and a little squirrel to scamper over the grass. 

“Heigh ho!” exclaimed dear Uncle Lucky, “what a 
beautiful world. I must hurry down to my breakfast and 
then go for Little Jack Rabbit. He should be vaccinated. 
Maybe I’d better call up Dr. Quack, the famous duck 
doctor, to find out when he can see us.” 

“Hello, Central, hurry, please, 

Something’s going to make me sneeze. 

Who has filled with pepper up 
The little rubber talking cup?” 

Ker-choo! ker-choo! went the dear old gentleman rab¬ 
bit, and before he could get out his lovely blue silk polka- 

142 




























THE RADIO STORY 


H3 


dot handkerchief somebody laughed outside the window. 

“Who’s laughing at me?” asked the ex-as-per-a-ted— 
which means, dear littlest reader, teased nearly to death— 
old gentleman bunny, “and who put pepper in my tele¬ 
phone, I want to know?” 

“Ha, ha! ha! ha!” laughed the voice again, just out¬ 
side the sitting room window. 

With a hop, skip and a jump across the nice rag carpet 
hopped the dear old bunny to peek through the curtain. 
There on the porch rail sat Jimmy Jay, the mischievous 
bird boy. 

“Ha, ha! ha, ha!” he went again, throwing his head 
first to one side and then to the other, “Ha, ha! ha, ha!” 

“Get off my porch,” shouted dear Uncle Lucky, “you 
bad, mischievous, sneak of a bird boy. Why don’t you 
play nice games instead of mean jokes? Get off my porch 
or I’ll do something to you,” and Uncle Lucky hopped 
back across the hall and opened the front door with a 
swing. 

Away flew naughty Jimmy Jay like a flash of blue 
through the leaves. 

“Ha, ha! ha, ha!” he laughed, “how peppery we are!” 

“Good gracious meebus!” exclaimed the old gentleman 
bunny, “that bird boy is a bad one. If he doesn’t mend 
his ways I shall report him to the Policeman Dog. What 
right has he to come into my house and play such a trick 
on me?” 

Dear Uncle Lucky was so provoked with Jimmy Jay 
that he almost forgot to call up Dr. Quack. But as soon 


144 LITTLE JACK RABBIT’S BIG BLUE BOOK 

as the mischievous bluebird was out of sight the kind old 
gentleman suddenly remembered and, hopping over to 
the telephone, shouted: 

“One, two, three, S. O. S. 

Who is calling? Can’t you guess?” 

“No, who is it?” answered a voice. 

“Mr. Lucky Lefthindfoot. My nephew, Little Jack 
Rabbit, should be vaccinated. Can you come over to the 
Old Bramble Patch at once?” 

“In about fifteen minutes,” replied the famous duck 
doctor. 

Hanging up the receiver, Uncle Lucky hopped out to 
the garage and, cranking the Luckymobile, started off 
for the Sunny Meadow. 

By and by, after a while, but not quite a mile, he came 
to the dear Old Bramble Patch, in the center of which safe 
and secure stood the little bungalow in which Little Jack 
Rabbit lived with Lady Love, his bunny mother. 

“Honk, honk!” went the Luckymobile horn, and the 
next minute out hopped Little Jack Rabbit. 

“Has Dr. Quack been here?” asked the old gentleman 
bunny, taking out his gold watch and chain. 

“He just left,” answered his bunny nephew. “He vac¬ 
cinated me. Mother gave me a carrot cent afterwards to 
buy a lollypop with ’cause I didn’t make a fuss.” 

“You’re a good bunny boy,” said Uncle Lucky, pat¬ 
ting the little rabbit’s ears. “Let’s hop in to see mother.” 


THE RADIO STORY 


145 


Side by side the little rabbit boy and the dear old gen¬ 
tleman bunny hopped along the path through the thick 
brambles until they reached the little bungalow. On the 
back porch sat Lady Love, the little rabbit’s mother, shell¬ 
ing peas. 

“Well, well, well!” exclaimed Uncle Lucky, “how 
busy we are! And how pretty we look in the blue apron 
and string of red beads!” Sitting down on the step, the 
old gentleman bunny filled his old corncob pipe with 
cabbage leaf tobacco and smoked away to his heart’s con¬ 
tent. 

By and by the little rabbit grew restless. “Let’s listen 
in on the radio,” he suggested, tickling dear Uncle 
Lucky’s ear. 

“Come along,” answered the obliging old gentleman 
rabbit, hopping into the sitting room. 

Professor Crow was just announcing to his radio au¬ 
dience that “This is Station ABC, Old Crow County, Tall 
Pine Tree. The first number on our program is David 
Cory, the Jack Rabbit Man, who will tell his famous Lit¬ 
tle Jack Rabbit stories to the furry and feather-coated 
people of the Shady Forest and Sunny Meadow. Tune 
in and let us know how the story is going over. Step into 
the Hollow Stump Telephone Booth and call us up: ‘One, 
three, five, Sakes Alive; Pine Tree Top, Lollypop! Here 
is Uncle Dave.’ ” 

“Hello! boys and girls. Guess where I am. Maybe 
I’d better tell you before you grow tired thinking of a mil¬ 
lion different places. I’m up in Professor Crow’s tall Pine 


146 LITTLE JACK RABBIT’S BIG BLUE BOOK 

Tree House. He has asked me to broadcast a Little Jack 
Rabbit story. Isn’t that a compliment? Well, I just 
guess yes three times and a half. But, dear me! It’s some 
job to climb a tall pine house. I’m not as young as I used 
to be, but now that I’m up at the top and have brushed off 
my trousers and straightened my tie I’ll tell you some¬ 
thing nice and true, for it’s pretty up here under the blue 
and sunny sky with Merry Sun winking his big gold eye. 

“Goodness me! dear boys and girls, there goes the tele¬ 
phone bell and Squirrel Nutcracker’s voice is shouting 
over the wire: ‘Ask Mr. Cory to put me in the story.’ 

“ ‘All right,’ promised Professor Crow, but before I 
could broadcast a word the bell rang again. 

“ ‘Busy Beaver talking,’ came over the wire. ‘Ask 
David Cory to say something about me.’ 

“ ‘All righto,’ answered the old crow, hanging up. 
But jingle, jingle, tinkle, tink went the bell before I could 
wink. 

“ ‘This is the Big Brown Bear talking. Ask David 
Cory to put me in the story,’ I heard him say, and then 
Professor Crow answered, ‘I’ll see what I can do.’ 

“ ‘Hurry up and commence,’ said the worried old 
black bird, turning to me. Again tinkerly tink, jingerly 
jell went that dreadful telephone bell, and Granddaddy 
Bullfrog begged to have me mention him over the wire. 

“ ‘All righto, Mr. Bullfrog,’ answered Professor 
Crow, but even before he had hung up the receiver, 
Chippy Chipmunk was requesting that I say ‘Hello’ to 
him. 


THE RADIO STORY 


147 


“ ‘Goodness me!’ said Professor Crow, ‘if they keep 
this up there’ll be no story at all.’ 

“ ‘Never mind,’ I answered, ‘I’ll just say hello to 
everybody. Next Thursday will be time enough for a 
story.’ ” 

All of a sudden the little rabbit shouted, “He just said 
hello to me!” and the next minute, “He just said hello to 
you!” 

“Did he?” asked dear Uncle Lucky. “Well, that is 
kind of him,” and as the radio talk was now over the two 
bunnies hopped into the kitchen. 

“What have you for supper?” asked dear Uncle 
Lucky. 

“Stewed lollypops!” answered busy Lady Love, plac¬ 
ing a steaming dish upon the table. “Nice fresh lollypops. 
The Big Brown Bear was here yesterday.” 

“Did he ask for me?” asked Little Jack Rabbit. 

“To be sure,” replied Lady Love, “I told him that 
Uncle Lucky was coming to-day.” 

“Yes, I’ll stay here for a while,” laughed the old gentle¬ 
man bunny, picking up a big juicy yellow lollypop by the 
stick, just the way people eat asparagus. But, oh, dear 
me! down ran the juice all over his nice clean napkin. 
Wasn’t that a shame? 

“Goodness gracious meebus!” exclaimed Uncle 
Lucky, “that was a very ripe lollypop!” 

Just then his small rabbit nephew brought his spoon 
down on the table with a whack. 

“What’s that?” shouted the old gentleman bunny, 


148 LITTLE JACK RABBIT’S BIG BLUE BOOK 

dropping the lollypop stick on his little left hind toe, the 
one with the rheumatiz, you know. 

“A mosquito tried to sting my ear!” cried the little 
bunny boy, carefully lifting the spoon to peep underneath, 
“Where did he go?” 

“If you would catch a skeeter 
You must be lightning quick. 

My name is Skeeter Peter 
And I’m on to every trick,” 

sang a squeaky, buzzy voice. 

“Did you hear that?” asked Lady Love. 

“No, but maybe I’m getting a little deaf,” sighed dear 
Uncle Lucky, tucking a clean napkin under his chin and 
picking out a fresh lollypop. 

“There goes Skeeter Peter out of the window,” 
shouted his small nephew bunny. 

“Catch him!” cried the old gentleman rabbit, hopping 
over to the open window. But, oh, dear me! The Old 
Red Rooster, who was raking up the leaves on the lawn 
wasn’t quick enough, and away flew Skeeter Peter to the 
Old Duck Pond where Mrs. Skeeter Peter was waiting 
at the door of their tiny house in the long grass. 

“Dear me! I’m all out of breath,” sighed dear Uncle 
Lucky, sitting down in the rocking chair by the open 
window to read the Bunnybridge Bugle. After a while he 
fell asleep and dreamed he was a boy again and had sent a 
pretty valentine to a lovely bunny girl. 


BUNNY TALE 16 


DANGER 

“It’s growing cold! I must turn up my coat collar,” 
said Little Jack Rabbit, hopping out on the Sunny 



Meadow. He had just finished polishing the front door¬ 
knob and maybe his little pink nose was pinker than usual. 

149 





















150 LITTLE JACK RABBIT’S BIG BLUE BOOK 

Maybe Jack Frost had pinched it when the little bunny 
boy wasn’t looking. 

It certainly was cold out on the Sunny Meadow! Billy 
Breeze was romping over the frosty grass, bending the 
leafless bushes and trees. 

Turkey Tim strutted about the Old Barnyard, spread¬ 
ing his big tail like a Japanese fan. 

“Although the sky is clear and blue, 

Oh, dear me and oh, dear you! 

How cold and chilly Billy Breeze. 

He makes me shiver at the knees!” 

sang Cocky Doodle trying to pull down his feather knick¬ 
erbockers. But he couldn’t. Neither could he pull up his 
feather stockings. Dear me! again. Wasn’t that too bad? 
Well, I should say so, although I’ve seen lots of little boys 
and girls with bare legs in the winter time. 

“Bow wow!” went Old Sic’em, the farmer’s dog, tug¬ 
ging at his chain, as Little Jack Rabbit hopped around the 
Big Red Barn. 


“Bow, wow, wow! 

It makes me laugh 
To see Mrs. Cow 
Spank her calf.” 

“Now, that will do,” said Mrs. Cow, quite provoked, 
“it’s so long since you were spanked you’ve forgotten you 
were once a puppy boy dog.” 


DANGER 


151 

“Ha! ha!” laughed Little Jack Rabbit, “now will you 
be good, Old Sic’em?” But the old dog crept into his 
little wooden house with never an answer. 

Just then Little Jack Rabbit spied Old Man Weasel 
under the woodpile. 

“Oh, dear me!” said the little bunny to himself, “what 
shall I do?” 

“Don’t be frightened,” chirped little Bobbie Redvest 
from the Old Rail Fence. “Old Man Weasel won’t dare 
show himself for here comes the Big Kind Farmer.” 

Sure enough, there he stood with a milk pail on his 
arm. So away hopped Little Jack Rabbit to the Old Duck 
Pond to see Granddaddy Bullfrog, the nice old gentle¬ 
man frog in his white waistcoat and gold rimmed spec¬ 
tacles. 

“I’ll soon be going down to the warm mud at the bot¬ 
tom of the pond,” said the old fellow, with a shiver. “I 
can’t stand this snappy weather. Guess I’ll start now,” 
and with a dive off his log, he disappeared beneath the 
water. 

“Good-by!” called out the little bunny boy, hopping 
home to the warm little bungalow in the Old Bramble 
Patch. 

The next morning the Sunny Meadow was as white 
as Lady Love’s best tablecloth and just as smooth, for 
it had snowed all night, the snowflakes falling so softly 
that no one had even dreamed of what was happening. 

After breakfast Little Jack Rabbit pulled on his nice 
warm mittens. 


152 LITTLE JACK RABBIT’S BIG BLUE BOOK 

“Don’t forget your muffler,” warned his careful 
mother. Then filling his knapsack with little lettuce flour 
cakes, she kissed him good-by. 

As he hopped along he began to sing: 

“Three little bunnies a-sliding went 
All on a winter’s day. 

The ice was thin and two fell in, 

And the third one ran away.” 

“That’s a fine song,” cawed Professor Crow from his 
Tall Pine Tree house. 

“Drop me an ice cream pine cone,” laughed the little 
bunny. But the selfish old bird instead threw a snowball, 
hitting the little rabbit on the tip of his tail. 

Off he hopped, for he wasn’t going to have snowballs 
thrown at him. No, sireeman. And pretty soon, not so 
very far, he met Brownie Mink creeping along by the 
Old Duck Pond. 

“I must be very careful these days,” he whispered. 
“People wear fur in the winter time and that dreadful 
Miller’s boy may set a trap. If it catches me I’ll be a muff 
instead of a little mink.” 

“They set traps for me, too!” answered the little bunny. 
“Besides, I must look out for Danny Fox and Old Man 
Weasel. And sometimes, and maybe oftener, for Robber 
Hawk. You’re not the only one who has to look out for 
himself.” 

All of a sudden the little rabbit felt hungry and, open- 


DANGER 


153 


ing his knapsack, handed a lollypop to Brownie Mink. 
But what the bunny boy ate will take too long to tell. 

“The next time you pass the Old Bramble Patch I’ll 
ask Uncle Lucky to take us sledmobiling,” he said, buck¬ 
ling on his knapsack. 

“Hurray!” shouted the little mink, tickled almost to 
pieces. He’d never ridden in a sledmobile and neither 
have I, and neither have you, but we may some day if we 
happen to be around when Uncle Lucky passes by. 

“The snow is nearly three feet deep 
Upon the forest trail, 

And windy rifts and hilly drifts 
Blot out the lonely vale. 

“Oh, little bunny, have a care 
For Danny Fox is everywhere! 

Be very careful where you go 
And leave no footprints in the snow,” 

sang Sammy Snowbird from a little bush in the Sunny 
Meadow, knowing how hungry Danny Fox was now that 
the ground was covered with a white carpet. Up at the 
Old Barn Yard the chickens huddled inside the warm hen 
house and old Danny Fox couldn’t find even a feather 
near the Big Red Barn. 

“I’ll keep a bright lookout, never fear,” laughed the 
bunny boy, and he hopped away into the Shady Forest. 
By and by he met a big Snow Man. Wasn’t it strange to 
find a Snow Man in the Shady Forest? Well, I guess it 


154 LITTLE JACK RABBIT’S BIG BLUE BOOK 

was, and the little rabbit thought so, too. All of a sudden 
two little bears ran out of a cave and shouted: “We did it.” 

“It’s a fine Snow Man,” answered the little bunny and, 
taking a lemon lollypop out of his knapsack, he pushed 
the stick into the Snow Man’s mouth. It seemed as if he 
were smoking a lollypop pipe. But not for long, let me 
tell you. No, sireeman and no, siree, Mister! For in a 
jiffy those two little bears took it away from the poor 
Snow Man, and ate it up, stick and all. 

“Ha, ha!” laughed the little rabbit, and, being a gener¬ 
ous little bunny, he took another out of his knapsack. 
“Take it home to your little sister.” But the two bears 
didn’t have any sister, only an old aunt who didn’t like 
candy. 

After that the little bunny hopped away. By and by 
he saw a great icicle hanging from a rock in the Bubbling 
Brook. Now Mr. Merry Sun was doing his best to melt 
it, but Mr. North Wind blew so cold that all Mr. Merry 
Sun could do was to paint it all sorts of colors, green and 
red, yellow and purple. “It looks like a stick of candy,” 
thought the little rabbit, breaking it off. 

“I’ll fool somebody with it,” and away he hopped, 
singing: 

“Over the snow, over the snow, 

Hippity, hippity, hop I go. 

I don’t care if the woods are bare, 

For I love the snow, the beautiful snow, 

Hiding the flowers until they can grow.” 


DANGER 


i5S 


By and by he came to the Shady Forest Pond. Of 
course it was all frozen over with a thick coating of ice. 
Only the top of Mister Muskrat’s house could be seen, in 
the upper bedroom of which, high and dry, Mister Musk¬ 
rat himself lay sound asleep. 

Sliding out on the ice, the little rabbit knocked on the 
roof. But he never saw the frightened Muskrat swim out 
in the water. Oh, dear, no. The ice was too thick for 
that, although Mister Muskrat could hear the little rabbit 
sliding about overhead. 

“I must wait until Springtime to find out who called,” 
thought Mister Muskrat, swimming over to his other hid¬ 
ing place among the roots of the Old Chestnut Tree in 
which Old Barney Owl had built his little wooden house 
in a big hollow limb. 

And wasn’t it strange? Mister Muskrat never got the 
least bit wet as he swam through the water. You see his 
thick fur overcoat is waterproof. 

“I have few friends in the wintertime,” sighed Little 
Jack Rabbit. “Timmie Chipmunk is fast asleep in his lit¬ 
tle warm house. So is Woody Chuck. And Granddaddy 
Bullfrog and Teddy Turtle are dreaming away in the soft 
warm mud at the bottom of the Old Duck Pond. I’ll be 
glad when warm weather comes.” 

Just then who should pop out of his little snow tunnel, 
for by this time the little rabbit was on the Sunny Meadow, 
but Timmie Meadowmouse. He wasn’t afraid of little 
bunnies, you know, nor squirrels, nor chipmunks, but al¬ 
ways kept his eyes open for Danny Fox, and Old Man 


156 LITTLE JACK RABBIT’S BIG BLUE BOOK 

Weasel, who are always skulking around, or for Hungry 
Hawk, who is often flying up in the sky. 

“I’ve been playing hide and seek all day,” laughed 
Timmie Meadowmouse. 

“Who with?” inquired Little Jack Rabbit anxiously, 
wiggling his little pink nose to catch the first scent of 
danger. 

“Oh, with Danny Fox,” replied the little meadow- 
mouse. “But, you see, he didn’t catch me.” 

“Don’t be too sure all the time. 

Some day you’ll regret it; 

Danger comes so suddenly, 

Watch and don’t forget it,” 

sang Charlie Chickadee. 

Dear me! That little bird must have known that dan¬ 
ger was lurking near. 

“Run, run, run! 

Skate, skate, skate! 

You’d better start this minute 
Or else you’ll be too late. 

Old Danny Fox will catch you 
If you don’t watch out, 

Hurry, hurry, hurry! 

Old Danny Fox’s about!” 

shouted Squirrel Nutcracker from his Tree Top House. 


DANGER 


i57 

Away went Little Jack Rabbit, clipperty clip, lipperty 
lip! No, he didn’t, either. He went slipperty slip! Slip- 
perty slip! Just like that, only faster. 

“I’ll catch you yet,” growled Danny Fox. 

“Not yet,” gasped the little bunny boy. 

“Pretty soon,” whined the old fox. 

“Never and never,” replied the bunny boy bravely. 
“Mother shan’t lose her little rabbit, not if I can help it!” 
and away he went, faster than before, and lots faster than 
behind. And in less time than I can take to tell it he was 
safely over the little picket fence around the dear Old 
Bramble Patch. You see, he couldn’t wait to unlatch the 
gate, but gave a hop-tee-idy right over it. The next min¬ 
ute Lady Love had pulled him in and slammed the kitchen 
door. 


“Safe at home in mother’s arms! 

That’s the place to be. 

Warm and cuddley, mother’s breast, 

Like a pretty downy nest,” 

sang the Canary Bird. Then Little Miss Cricket chirped 
and the Three Grasshoppers fiddled pretty music. 


BUNNY TALE 17 


TROUBLE 

I wish that only lovely things, 

Like roses red and diamond rings 
And lollypops and ice cream cones 
And pretty little colored stones 

Would fall down at the rabbits’ feet 
And make them smile with laughter sweet, 

And not a hungry long-clawed hawk, 

With swishing wings and cruel squawk. 

And now I’ve explained in this little poem what hap¬ 
pened while the little rabbit family were sitting peacefully 
on the back porch of their little bungalow in the Old 
Bramble Patch. 

“Goodness gracious meebus!” exclaimed Uncle 
Lucky, as he tried to close the kitchen door. “Hungry 
Hawk, will you kindly pull your bill away?” 

“You can’t hurt my bill,” answered the old hawk, 
scratching and pushing the door. 

“All right, then,” answered Uncle Lucky. “Let’s see 
you get away, you old robber.” 

But, dear me! That old bird was very persistent! 

“Get the poker!” panted Uncle Lucky, “I can’t hold 
out much longer.” 


158 


TROUBLE 


159 


“Here it is,” cried the little bunny, handing the poker 
to the old gentleman rabbit. Then, in some way or an¬ 
other, I can’t explain just how, brave Uncle Lucky pressed 
it against the door and pulling up the kitchen table, made 
it fast to one of the legs. 

“Ha, ha!” he laughed, “now, old robber hawk, get 
away if you can! Maybe you’ll wish you’d never made 
us a call,” and with a hop, skip and a toe-slide over the 
floor, the old gentleman bunny peeked out of the kitchen 
window. 

Goodness gracious, how ruffled and bedraggled was 
the old hawk! He could use his legs and his wings all 
right, but his beak was caught fast in the door. No mat¬ 
ter how he braced his feet and beat his wings, or flapped 
his tail this way and that, he couldn’t get free. No, siree! 
He was as fast as a clam at low tide. 

“But how are we to get out unless we use the parlor?” 
said Lady Love. “Besides, the front door has no spring 
on it. It will be mighty inconvenient on wash day with 
my hands full of clothes-pins.” 

“Shall we let the old bird go?” asked Little Jack Rab¬ 
bit, hopping up on the window seat to peep over the red 
geranium flowers in the nice green box on the window 
sill. 

“No, no!” answered Uncle Lucky. “Wait until I call 
up the Policeman Dog and ask him what’s best to do.” 


‘One, two, three, Rabbitville, 
Hurry up, I can’t keep still. 


160 LITTLE JACK RABBIT’S BIG BLUE BOOK 

What’s the matter, Central? Please 
Hold the wire while I sneeze,” 

cried poor excited Uncle Lucky. 

Pretty soon the voice of the Policeman Dog came over 
the wire, deep and low, kind and soothing: 

“What can I do for you, Mr. Lucky Lefthindfoot?” 

“Oh, oh, but I’m glad to hear you say that,” answered 
the dear old gentleman rabbit. “Dear me, but it’s nice 
and comforting to hear your voice. Please come up here 
at once.” 

“What for?” asked the Policeman Dog. 

“Didn’t I tell you?” shouted the old gentleman bunny. 
“I declare, I’m so worried and out of breath, so excited 
and scared to death, I forgot to say that Hungry Hawk 
tried to catch us all while shelling peas on our little back 
porch. I’ve pinched his big long crooked bill between the 
kitchen door and the sill, but I don’t know what to do with 
him.” 

“I’ll come right up,” answered the kind police dog 
and, hanging up the receiver, he put on his cap, picked 
up his big stick and trotted off for the Old Bramble Patch. 

“You’re a good friend of Uncle Lucky’s,” he said, on 
meeting the Yellow Dog Tramp. “Come along with me 
while I tell you what has happened to the nice old gentle¬ 
man bunny.” While explaining matters, whom should 
they meet but the Big Brown Bear, that friendly old dealer 
in lollypops and honey balls, the friend of all the forest folk. 

“Come along with us,” said the Policeman Dog. “I’ll 


TROUBLE 


161 


explain on the way what has happened at the little rabbit’s 
bungalow.” 

“Nothing serious, I hope,” enquired the Big Brown 
Bear, anxiously. “I’m very fond of Little Jack Rabbit. 
It was only this morning he bought a lollypop with a car¬ 
rot cent.” 

“Well, it might have been serious if brave Uncle 
Lucky hadn’t slammed the kitchen door tight shut on 
Hungry Hawk’s bill.” 

“Ha, ha,” laughed the Yellow Dog Tramp, “won’t 
Hungry Hawk be pleased to see us.” 

“Ha, ha, he, he 1” laughed the Big Brown Bear, “I’ll 
tickle him under the chin.” 

“Let’s hurry faster,” said the kind Policeman Dog, and 
climbing over and under the Old Rail Fence they ran up 
the little path to the tiny white bungalow. 

How the Police Dog and the Big Brown Bear 
And the Yellow Dog Tramp with his curly hair 
Laughed when they heard old Hungry Hawk 
Greet them all with an angry squawk. 

“What are you trying to do, old bird? Break into the 
little bungalow?” asked the Policeman Dog. 

“You’d better get a jimmy next time,” cried the Yellow 
Dog Tramp. 

“Or an ax,” laughed the Big Brown Bear. 

“He isn’t trying to get in,” shouted Uncle Lucky from 
the kitchen window. “He’s caught fast.” You see, the 


162 LITTLE JACK RABBIT’S BIG BLUE BOOK 

dear old gentleman rabbit didn’t know that the old robber 
hawk was being teased by the Policeman Dog and his two 
friends. 

“What shall I do with him?” asked the Policeman 
Dog. 

“Whatever you think best,” answered Uncle Lucky. 

“Please take him away,” sighed Lady Love. “I can’t 
go out on the back porch and I don’t want to wear out the 
parlor rug.” 

“Put him in jail,” shouted Little Jack Rabbit. 

“I’ll please you all,” cried the Policeman Dog, and 
taking a pair of handcuffs from his pocket, he snapped 
them around Hungry Hawk’s legs. Then padlocking a 
chain around the old bird’s neck, he told Uncle Lucky 
to open the kitchen door. 

It took the old gentleman rabbit two or three and 
maybe four minutes to untie the rope around the leg of 
the kitchen stove and unfasten the other end which was 
twisted around the doorknob. When all this was done, 
he pushed open the door. 

“Whew! I’m glad to get my bill out!” gasped Hungry 
Hawk, shaking himself till three feathers fell on the little 
back porch. 

“I’ll make a quill pen,—maybe three quill pens,” said 
Uncle Lucky, picking up the feathers. “Ha, ha, some¬ 
thing good in everything. I had intended to buy a pen at 
the Three-in-One Cent Store. Now I can save a carrot 
cent.” 

“Come along with us,” said the Policeman Dog, pull- 


TROUBLE 163 

ing the old Hawk through the fence. “You’ll go to jail 
for a month of Sundays.” 

The Big Brown Bear and the Yellow Dog Tramp fol- 



“Throw up your paws!” shouted Danny Fox. 


lowed the Policeman Dog to see that Hungry Hawk didn’t 
play any tricks on his way to his jail hotel. 

“Thank you all for coming up here,” shouted dear 
Uncle Lucky. “You’re good friends in time of need.” 

By and by the old gentleman bunny invited the little 
rabbit to go for a ride. 














164 LITTLE JACK RABBIT’S BIG BLUE BOOK 

Everything was going along nicely when, all of a sud¬ 
den, just like that, something happened to the Luckymo- 
bile and before the old gentleman bunny could tighten a 
loose screw with the monkey wrench a voice shouted: 

“What are you doing, you old rabbit man? 

Now throw up your paws as quick as you can. 

If you don’t you will learn what a robber can do, 
I’m sure you don’t want to be bitten in two.” 

“No, no, no 1” cried poor Uncle Lucky. “But who are 
you?” 

“I’ll show you,” answered the voice, and out jumped 
Danny Fox. Dear me, but he looked dreadfully sly in 
his brown unionalls! 

“Please, please don’t bite,” begged poor Uncle Lucky. 

“Throw up your paws!” shouted Danny Fox. 

Of course there was nothing for the old gentleman 
rabbit to do but obey, so up went his paws, almost knock¬ 
ing off his old wedding stovepipe hat. 

“How much money have you in your pockets?” asked 
the old robber fox, hardly noticing Little Jack Rabbit. 

“Ten lettuce leaf dollar bills and 23 carrot cents,” an¬ 
swered Uncle Lucky, in a trembly voice. 

“That’s not much for a rich old rabbit gentleman like 
you,” growled Danny Fox. “Haven’t you forgotten your 
old leather wallet?” 

“No, sireebus!” replied Uncle Lucky, “but I wish you 
had!” 


TROUBLE 165 

“Ha, ha!” laughed the cruel fox, “I think I’ll put you 
both in this old sack and carry you home.” 

“Come, come, Danny Fox,” cried Uncle Lucky. “If 
you do that you’ll get only ten lettuce leaf dollar bills and 
23 carrot cents. I don’t want to be bumped about in an 
old flour sack.” 

“What will you give me if I don’t put you in my old 
flour sack?” asked that wicked robber. 

“20 lettuce leaf dollar bills and 46 carrot cents,” re¬ 
plied poor Uncle Lucky. “You’ll have to trust me till I 
go home. I’m a little short of change to-day.” 

“All right, but let me go through your pockets,” 
growled the old fox, pushing his paw inside the old rab¬ 
bit’s coat. Pretty soon he took out a leather wallet. 

“Ha, ha!” laughed that wicked beast, “maybe I’ll find 
a Liberty Bond.” But he didn’t. No, siree! He found 
only a cigar coupon, two transfers and a picture of Little 
Jack Rabbit in pretty colors. 

“Fudge and oh, dear!” growled Danny Fox. “Take 
back your wallet. Where are the lettuce leaf dollar bills?” 

“In my inside vest pocket,” answered the old gentle¬ 
man rabbit. But in taking them out Danny Fox tickled 
dear Uncle Lucky almost to pieces! 

“Ha, ha!” went the old fox. “You’re a ticklish 
bunny rabbit. Goodness me, but you’re tickle-ish!” 

“Tee hee! tee hee!” giggled poor Uncle Lucky, squirm¬ 
ing this way and that way, until all of a sudden off went 
his old wedding stovepipe hat! 

By this time, however, Danny Fox had the 10 lettuce 


166 LITTLE JACK RABBIT’S BIG BLUE BOOK 

leaf dollar bills in his paw, and was just going to take the 
23 carrot cents when just like that, quick as a wink, and 
maybe quicker, a rope fell over his head, yanking him 
backwards. 

“Wow, wow, g-r-r-r-r!” coughed and choked the old 
robber, as the rope grew tighter and tighter. Pretty soon 
his eyes almost popped out of his head. 

“You wicked old beast!” shouted a friendly voice, and 
the next minute the Cowboy in Uncle Lucky’s Circus ran 
out from behind the trees. 

“What shall I do with this old fox?” he asked, picking 
up the old stovepipe hat. 

“Anything you wish,” replied Uncle Lucky. “Why 
not take him to the circus and lock him up in a cage? He 
can be one of the wild animals the children like to look 
at.” 

“To be sure,” said the Cowboy. “Come along,” and 
he gave a tug to the rope. 

“Drop my money before you say good-by, Mr. Danny 
Fox!” cried anxious Uncle Lucky. 

“Oh, let me go, I beg of you, 

I’ll die in a circus tent. 

Oh, leave me here in the forest dear 
Where I never pay any rent,” 

begged Danny Fox, as the Cowboy dragged him off to the 
Circus in Turnip City. 

“Don’t listen to him,” cautioned Uncle Lucky, who 


TROUBLE 167 

couldn’t forget how he would have been robbed had the 
Cowboy not come along just in the nick of time. 

“I’ll pay no attention to the old robber,” answered the 
Cowboy, and in a few minutes he was out of sight. 

“Well, that’s a relief,” sighed dear Uncle Lucky, pick¬ 
ing up the 10 lettuce leaf dollar bills. “I’m glad to get 
back my money. But, goodness me! I’ll be late for sup¬ 
per,” and hopping into the Luckymobile, he hurried home 
to Little Miss Mousie. 


BUNNY TALE 18 


OLD HOOTY TOOTY OWL 

“When everything is going wrong 
Just hum a merry little song. 

Yes, hum it over twice again, 

You’ll find a rainbow through the rain. 

And soon the sky will turn a blue, 

The rooster sing a cockle-doo, 

And Bobbie Redvest from his tree 
A song of joy that is to be,” 

sang Lady Love, the little rabbit’s pretty mother, as her 
bunny boy hopped into the kitchen. 

“How do you remember all your songs?” he asked. 

“I just make them up,” replied Lady Love, with a 
smile: 


“Happiness is in the heart, 

Singing all the day. 

Nothing’s dull when one is glad— 

Work seems just like play.” 

“Ha, ha!” laughed the little bunny boy, “I think you 
could write wonderful fairy stories.” 

168 


OLD HOOTY TOOTY OWL 


169 


“Maybe!” answered Lady Love, with a wistful smile, 
as she ironed her little son’s blouse, “but I’ve only time to 
dream them. Perhaps some day we’ll find time,, you and 
I, to fill a book with songs of our little white bungalow.” 

Just then a knock came at the kitchen door. There 
stood the Yellow Dog Tramp, his old straw hat over 
one ear and a little tin can in his hand—I beg your par¬ 
don, I mean paw. 

“Won’t you fill my old tin cup with coffee till it’s 
brimming up?” asked the good old Bow-Wow in poetry. 
You see, he had lived in the woods where the birds sing 
and the leaves rustle and had turned into a dog poet with¬ 
out knowing it. 

“Come right in and you shall see 
A lady bunny make turnip tea. 

We have no coffee, but you won’t care 
If I give you tea and a chocolate eclair,” 

answered Lady Love. 

“No, indeed!” answered the Yellow Dog Tramp. 
“I’m not particular,” and carefully wiping his feet on the 
door-mat, he trotted into the spotless little kitchen. 

“My, but you look pretty in your blue apron,” he re¬ 
marked, as the lady bunny put on the kettle. 

“Mother always looks pretty,” agreed Little Jack Rab¬ 
bit. “She just can’t help it.” 

“That’s because she’s always doing something for 
somebody,” replied the Yellow Dog Tramp. “I remem- 


170 LITTLE JACK RABBIT’S BIG BLUE BOOK 

ber my mother was just like her, but that was long ago 
before I left the farm to become a hobo dog.” I guess the 
Yellow Dog Tramp was right. All mothers are pretty to 
boys and girls who love them. 

“Well, I must be going back to the woods. It’s grow¬ 
ing late,” said the old dog, after finishing three eclairs 
and emptying five tea-cups. “Thank you,” and away he 
ran. 

“Cousin Cottontail has invited us over this evening,” 
said Lady Love, as she put away the dishes. “She has a 
new radio set. We’ll go over in time to hear the Jack 
Rabbit Man tell his stories.” 

“Ha, ha!” cried the little bunny, “that will be fine!” 
and with a skip and a jump he hopped out on the porch 
where the little canary lived in her gold cage. 

“Hello! Little Rabbit,” she twittered. “What makes 
you so happy?” 

“Didn’t you hear what mother just said?” he asked, 
twinkling his pretty pink nose. 

“No, what did she say?” answered the pretty yellow 
bird. 

“That we are invited over to Cousin Cottontail’s to 
listen to David Cory’s bunny stories.” 

Just then out hopped Lady Love and without waiting 
to tie her bonnet string, hurried after her bunny boy who 
was already half way to the little gate in the brambles. 

But, oh, dear me, and oh, dear all of you little boys 
and girls! no sooner had these two dear bunnies reached 
the Old Rail Fence, about fifteen hops and maybe two 


OLD HOOTY TOOTY OWL 


171 

skips from the Old Bramble Patch, than they heard some¬ 
body or something go “Toot, toot, toot!” 

“Look out, mother!” cried the little bunny, and with a 
skiptoe sideways they both hopped into a hollow stump. 



Old Hooty Tooty Owl grabbed up the little rabbit. 


Wasn’t it lucky that there was a hollow stump close by? 
Well, I just guess yes three times. 

“Who was it?” asked Lady Love, in a whisper. 

“Old Hooty Tooty Owl, maybe,” answered the little 
bunny. 

Then they both listened to hear again that disagreeable 














172 LITTLE JACK RABBIT’S BIG BLUE BOOK 

noise, but all was still in the Shady Forest, so still that one 
could hardly hear Billy Breeze among the treetops. 

“Dear me, I’m afraid to hop out,” whispered the little 
lady bunny rabbit mother. 

“I’m not,” answered the brave little bunny, and out he 
hopped. But, oh, dear me! I wish he had been more cau¬ 
tious and not so foolishly brave, although I like brave lit¬ 
tle rabbit boys just the same, but bravery and foolhardi¬ 
ness are two very different things, oh, my yes, indeed. 

All of a sudden, just like that, quick as the wind that 
blows off your hat, Old Hooty Tooty Owl grabbed up 
the little rabbit and pushed him through the window of 
his big Tree House. 

“I’ll eat you when you’ve grown nice and fat,” tooted 
that wicked night bird. 

“Oh, please let me go home to mother! It will take 
me a long time to grow big and fat. Maybe I’ll grow thin, 
instead. Yes, I’ll grow thinner and thinner until by and 
by I’ll be as thin as a pin,” sobbed the frightened bunny 
boy. 

“Stuff and nonsense!” answered the old owl, “I’ll feed 
you on lollypops and ice cream cones.” 

Just then a great pounding and hammering shook the 
big tree. 

“I wonder who that can be?” thought the bad owl, 
peeping out of the window. 

“Oh, I hope it’s mother with the brave Policeman 
Dog,” cried the poor frightened little bunny boy. 

“Keep quiet,” whispered Hooty Tooty Owl, with a 


OLD HOOTY TOOTY OWL 


i 73 


scowl. “If you make any noise I’ll twist off your head.” 

Dear, oh, dear! that is a dreadful thing to hear from 
a big owl when you’re only a little bunny boy rabbit. 

All of a sudden the pounding sounded again, only 
louder than before. 

“Oh, I hope it’s mother,” thought the little rabbit, as 
he cowered and shivered in the corner of the wicked old 
owl’s sitting room. “Oh, I hope mother knows where I 
am.” 

The next minute there came a tremendous crash—the 
Old Tree House shook from top to bottom. 

“Rats and mice!” exclaimed the wicked owl. “Some¬ 
body means business. I guess I’ll look out of the attic 
window,” and the old feathered robber climbed up to the 
garret of his tree house, ’way up near the top-most 
branches, and peeped down. 

At the foot of the tree stood poor Little Lady Love, the 
bunny boy’s mother, and the brave Policeman Dog. 

Once again and then five times more this kind Pro¬ 
tector of the Law knocked on the door with his great big 
club. Oh, my! how he did knock! What a thundering 
hub-a-dub-dub! Crash! smash! went the oak panel, and 
in fell the door with a bang!!! 

“Where are you, my little bunny boy?” cried Lady 
Love. 

“Where are you, Little Jack Rabbit?” shouted the 
Policeman Dog. 

“I’ll be down in a minute,” answered the brave little 
bunny boy, “just as soon as I untie the rope.” 


174 LITTLE JACK RABBIT’S BIG BLUE BOOK 

“Oh, hurry please,” cried Lady Love to the Policeman 
Dog, “my little boy is tied fast upstairs.” 

Up the rickety stairway three steps at a jump went 
the brave dog and the little bunny’s mother. Pretty soon 
they came to a dark room, in the farthest corner of which 
cowered the poor little rabbit boy bunny prisoner. 

“You untie the rope!” shouted the Policeman Dog, “I 
want to catch Old Hooty Tooty,” and up the attic stairs 
he leaped, only this time he made four steps at a jump. 

“My poor little bunny,” cried Lady Love, as she loos¬ 
ened the last knot and clasped him in her arms. 

All of a sudden there sounded a dreadful squawk and 
away flew old Hooty Tooty, tipsy topsy, this way and that 
way. 

“I tickled him with my club,” laughed the Policeman 
Dog. “Now I’ll see you safe home, although I guess he 
won’t bother little rabbits for a long time.” 



— 








old P^P.U- ^frJrrt 



























BUNNY TALE 19 


LITTLE DEEDS OF KINDNESS 

Now let’s see what Uncle Lucky is doing this lovely 
October weather, when the leaves are red and the pump¬ 
kins yellow as sunflowers. My goodness! what a dread¬ 
ful time the old gentleman bunny had to keep on his old 
stovepipe hat these windy autumn days. No matter how 
tight he tied his blue silk polkadot handkerchief over the 
top and under his chin every once in a while Billy Breeze 
knocked it off and rolled it along the roadside. 

“Well, it’s Autumn again and the leaves are all over 
the front lawn. I must telephone the old Red Rooster to 
come over and rake them up,” sighed dear Uncle Lucky, 
hopping up to the telephone to call up 

“Chickentown, oh, yes, oh, yes, 

Ring Happy Bells, Sue and Bess!” 

“Who is it?” asked a cock-a-doodley voice. 

“Mr. Red Rooster, I want you to rake 
The leaves from off my front lawn. 

I’ll give you some money and plenty of honey. 

Did you say that your watch was in pawn? 


176 LITTLE JACK RABBIT’S BIG BLUE BOOK 

Well, never mind that, for I have a watch 
Which will tell you when five o’clock’s here. 

So come up to-morrow and don’t stop to borrow, 
I’ll pay you two dollars a year,” 

answered funny Uncle Lucky, winking at Little Miss 
Mousie. 

“All right,” agreed the Old Red Rooster. “I’ll be 
there to-morrow at six.” But whether he or Uncle Lucky 
hung up the receiver first I don’t know, for I never thought 
to ask the telephone girl. 

“I just hate to have my place look disorderly,” sighed 
the dear old gentleman rabbit. “I’m glad that old rooster 
will be here to-morrow, although it makes me angry when 
he leans on his rake for hours at a time to watch the auto¬ 
mobiles go by.” 

“Let’s go out to the barn to see the pigeons,” suggested 
his tiny mouse housekeeper, curious to peep into the little 
house which Uncle Lucky had built on the roof of his 
old barn. 

“I’ll take some corn along,” he said, filling his old wed¬ 
ding stovepipe hat up to the brim; 

“Come, little pigeons, eat up the corn, 

I haven’t had time to buy rye, 

And you mustn’t care that the store on the square 
Has only a fresh apple pie,” 

sang dear Uncle Lucky. By and by he hopped back into 
the house for his afternoon nap. 


LITTLE DEEDS OF KINDNESS 


177 


Bright and early the next morning, before Mr. Merry 
Sun had taken off his cloudy nightcap, the Old Red 
Rooster knocked on the kitchen door. 

“Rat-a-tat-tat! Rat-a-tat-tat! 

Please open the door when I take off my hat!” 

he sang, after rapping for the umpty ’leventh time. Dear 
me! Uncle Lucky was a sound sleeper. I guess he only 
woke up when his alarm clock tickled him. 

“Wait a minute,” exclaimed the old gentleman rabbit, 
poking his head out of the window. “Oh, it’s you, is it?” 
he exclaimed, spying the old red rooster. “You’ll find 
the rake in the barn. Start right in to clean up the lawn. 
I’ll be out in a minute or three as soon as Miss Mousie 
has made the cof-fee.” 

By and by when the Old Red Rooster had raked up a 
pile of leaves almost as high as the spur on his right leg, 
he sat down to rest. All of a sudden who should come 
limping along *on three legs but Danny Fox. 

“Oh, ho!” laughed the Old Red Rooster, although he 
never would have so much as smiled had Danny Fox been 
walking on four legs, let me tell you. Oh, my no! 

“What’s that?” asked Danny Fox, angrily. 

“Oh, ho!” repeated the Old Red Rooster, with a loud 
crow; 


“Oh, Danny Fox has but three legs, 
He he, ha ha, ho ho! 


t 7 8 LITTLE JACK RABBIT’S BIG BLUE BOOK 

He walks as fast as a Messenger Boy 
And maybe twice as slow. 

He’d not catch me if I were tied 
To an old green apple tree. 

He he, ha ha, ho ho, ho ho, 

Ha ha, ha ha, he he!” 

Dear me! Wasn’t that old fox angry. 

“Nobody likes you, Danny Fox, 

You’re wicked and cruel and sly. 

You rob the henhouse every time 
When there is nobody nigh. 

You chase the little rabbits and hares, 

And fill them full of terrible scares. 

Oh, nobody loves you, Danny Fox, 

As you sneak around in your woolen socks.” 

“What’s all this noise about?” asked Uncle Lucky, 
looking out of the window. But when he saw Danny Fox 
he closed it mighty quick, let me tell you. 

Dear me, I was dreadfully afraid as Uncle Lucky 
closed the window that Danny Fox would catch the Old 
Red Rooster. But he didn’t. No, siree and a no, siree- 
man! His foot was too sore, so he limped away, saying 
with an angry snarl, “You just wait. Some day you’ll 
pay for the fun you’ve had with me,” which made the 
Old Red Rooster grow so pale with fear that when Uncle 
Lucky peeked out for the third time he thought a strange 


LITTLE DEEDS OF KINDNESS 179 

white rooster in his front yard was raking up the fallen 
leaves. 

No sooner was Danny Fox out of sight than Uncle 
Lucky hopped down to breakfast. 

“Maybe you’d better tell the Old Red Rooster to saw 



“Goodness me, this is a dull saw!” 


the wood. We’ll soon need an open fire in the sitting 
room,” said dear Uncle Lucky to Little Miss Mousie. 

“Goodness me, this is a dull saw!” sighed the lazy 
old fowl, looking up at the old gentleman bunny’s pretty 
mouse housekeeper. 

All of a sudden there came a loud knocking. Laying 
aside the morning paper and carefully placing his spec- 



















180 LITTLE JACK RABBIT’S BIG BLUE BOOK 

tacles on the table, the old gentleman bunny slipped his 
feet into a pair of old carpet slippers and opened the door. 
Who do you suppose was standing on the little porch? 
Why, Little Jack Rabbit, of course. He had come all the 
way from the Old Bramble Patch to see his dear kind 
Uncle Lucky, who had given him a gold watch and chain 
you remember some three hundred and umpty-’leven sto¬ 
ries ago in one of the Little Jack Rabbit Books. 

“Glad to see you,” cried the old gentleman bunny and 
leading his little nephew into the parlor, he invited him 
to sit down in front of the fire which was blazing merrily 
on the hearth this cold October day. 

“Oh, the wind will soon be whistling 
Around the kitchen door, 

And little drafts of chilliness 
Across the wooden floor 
Will almost take my slippers off 
And maybe bring the hopping cough,” 

said the old gentleman rabbit. But he didn’t realize he 
was talking in poetry. Oh, my no. If he had I guess my 
typewriter would have pinned a red rose on the old gen¬ 
tleman’s coat. 

“Well, what shall we do?” asked Little Jack Rabbit, 
being a restless little bunny who could never sit still in the 
same place at the same time for even a little while. 

“We can take a ride in the Luckymobile,” answered 
Uncle Lucky. 


LITTLE DEEDS OF KINDNESS 


181 


“All right, let’s go,” laughed the little bunny, Hopping 
out to the garage, while the old gentleman rabbit pulled 
on his boots and tied his blue silk polkadot handkerchief 
under his chin and over the top of his old wedding stove¬ 
pipe hat so that it wouldn’t blow off when Billy Breeze 
blew. 

Well, pretty soon, as they rolled along in the Lucky- 
mobile as fast as a comet, or maybe faster, for that Lucky- 
mobile could go when Uncle Lucky was in it. Oh, yes, 
ah, yes; they saw Danny Fox creeping along the Old Rail 
Fence. 

“Oh, dear!” cried the little rabbit, “that old robber fox 
has stolen a chicken from the good kind farmer.” 

“Well, we can’t help that,” answered Uncle Lucky. 
“Foxes must live as well as other people, only it’s too bad 
they can’t eat nuts like squirrels, or cabbages like rabbits.” 

Then all of a sudden the little rabbit had a bright idea. 
Taking out his Policeman’s whistle, he blew on it with all 
his might. And, would you believe it! that crafty old fox 
thought the Policeman Dog was coming and dropped 
the chicken. 

“My, you’re a clever little chap,” laughed Uncle 
Lucky, when all of a sudden, three little grasshoppers in a 
field close by began to sing: 

“Oh, dear, oh, dear, what shall we do 

Now that sweet summer time is through. 

We chirped and hopped all through the day 
And spent our time in happy play. 


182 LITTLE JACK RABBIT’S BIG BLUE BOOK 

But now the autumn winds are cold, 

The little lambs are in the fold, 

With woolen overcoats so warm 

To keep them safe from chill and storm.” 

“Hop into my Luckymobile,” invited Uncle Lucky. 
“We’ll take you home to Lady Love. You can live in the 
kitchen woodbox all winter and when Spring comes you 
may hop out and dance on the grass.” 

Well, it didn’t take those three shivering grasshop¬ 
pers long to jump into the Luckymobile, nor to reach the 
dear Old Bramble Patch. 

“Lady Love! Lady Love!” shouted Uncle Lucky, 
hopping up the winding path through the bushes. 

“What is it?” asked the pretty lady bunny, opening 
the kitchen door. How she laughed when she saw them 
all, Uncle Lucky, Little Jack Rabbit and the three Little 
Grasshoppers. But when the old gentleman rabbit had 
explained how shivery cold the grasshoppers were, and 
how he had brought them for a visit, the dear little bunny 
lady invited them into the kitchen to warm themselves 
by the stove. After poking the fire, she put on the kettle 
and set the table with apple pie and lollypops. 

“Three grasshoppers sat down to eat, 

Heigh-ho and two pink gumdrops! 

They had apple pie and grains of wheat, 
Heigh-ho and three lollypops. 


LITTLE DEEDS OF KINDNESS 183 

And what did they have to drink, 

Well, let me stop to think. 

Ice cream soda and turnip tea 
And then they were as happy as happy could be,” 

sang the pretty Canary Bird. 

And that’s how the Three Little Grasshoppers first 
came to spend the winter in Lady Love’s bungalow. 


BUNNY TALE 20 


VALENTINES 

“The rose is red, the violet blue. 

Oh, how I love a rabbit stew, 

I love it most as well as you,” 

wrote sly Old Danny Fox on the Valentine he sent to the 
big fat hen at the Farmyard. She was so pleased the next 
morning, thinking that Cocky Doodle had sent it, that 
she called him over to her nest to show him the nice white 
egg she had laid on St. Valentine’s Day. Of course he 
didn’t know she thought he had sent the valentine, so off 
he went to the Three-in-One Cent Store to buy her one, 
all covered with lace and gold hearts. 

As he passed Uncle Lucky’s white house on the corner 
of Lettuce Avenue and Carrot Street he heard the old gen¬ 
tleman rabbit calling from the window to the Yellow Dog 
Tramp, who took care of the Luckymobile in the winter 
time: 


“Come here, you good old yellow dog, 
And see my valentine. 

It makes me feel quite young again 
Although I’m fifty-nine.” 

“Who sent it?” asked the Yellow Dog Tramp. 

184 


VALENTINES 


185 

“Goodness gracious meebus! How do I know?” an¬ 
swered excited Uncle Lucky. “You never know who 
sends a valentine.” 

All of a sudden the telephone bell rang. 

“Hello, who’s this?” asked the old gentleman rabbit. 

“It’s me, Little Jack Rabbit. Did you get your valen¬ 
tine?” 

“Ha, ha!” laughed the old gentleman rabbit, and the 
next minute he shouted through the window: “Little Jack 
Rabbit sent it.” 

“I wish I were back in old Vermont, 

Safe from worry and harm, 

But it’s many a day since I went away 
From my home on the dear old farm,” 

answered the Yellow Dog Tramp sadly, wiping his eyes as 
he trotted into the garage to polish the Luckymobile. 

Pretty soon dear Uncle Lucky hopped out of the front 
door and down the road to Rabbitville, where he bought 
a valentine at the Three-in-One Cent Store for his little 
rabbit nephew. Then quickly hopping over to the Old 
Bramble Patch, for it was getting late and Mr. Merry 
Sun would soon be in bed in the purple west, the dear old 
gentleman rabbit tip-toed up to the front door of the lit¬ 
tle bunny’s house and dropped the valentine on the mat. 
Then, ringing the bell three times and a half, he quickly 
hid behind the rain barrel. 

“Hurrah! Somebody’s sent me a valentine,” shouted 


186 LITTLE JACK RABBIT’S BIG BLUE BOOK 

Little Jack Rabbit, looking all around to see who had 
left it. But no one was in sight, except Charlie Chickadee 
picking dried berries off a bush. 

“Did you leave this valentine?” asked the little bunny. 

“No,” chuckled Charlie Chickadee, “but I know who 
did,” cocking his head on one side and winking his eye 
nearest the rain barrel. 

“Who did it, then?” asked Little Jack Rabbit. 

“If I should tell you I much fear 
That Mr. Lefthindfoot would hear 
And hop around the big rain barrel 
To end my pretty little carol,” 

answered Charlie Chickadee. And away flew that 
naughty little bird, and none too soon, to dodge a snow 
ball that Uncle Lucky threw at him from behind the rain 
barrel. But it didn’t hit him, oh, my no! But it hit Old 
Danny Fox who was peeping through the brambles. Yes, 
siree, that’s what it did! 

“Ha, ha! I’m glad Charlie Chickadee made me 
angry,” chuckled dear Uncle Lucky, and the next moment 
he laughed so hard that one of the pearl buttons on his 
pink waistcoat flew off and hit the end of the old fox’s tail 
as he hurried away. Wasn’t that wonderful? Well, I 
just guess it was. But perhaps you don’t know that Uncle 
Lucky was a good shot and had once pitched on the Rab- 
bitville baseball team. 

“I’m glad to be home in time for lunch,” said the old 


VALENTINES 187 

gentleman rabbit, as he opened his kitchen door. “I’m as 
hungry as two bears and three wildcats.” 

“Home again, home again, 

Where it’s nice and warm. 

Home’s the nicest place to be 
When it’s going to storm. 

Let the lightning flash and dart, 

Let the thunder roar; 

What care we when safe at home 
And bolted is the door?” 

sang his tiny mouse housekeeper. 

“You are right, Little Miss Mousie,” answered dear 
Uncle Lucky, “but how do you know it’s going to rain?” 

“Because,” answered the little mouse, “I heard Willie 
Wind say just now to the Weathercock: ‘I’m going to 
bring up a big black rain cloud, so put on your mackin¬ 
tosh and rubbers.’ ” 

“Ha, ha!” laughed the old gentleman rabbit. “If the 
Weathercock puts on a mackintosh I’ll put on my bath¬ 
ing suit,” and funny old Uncle Lucky hopped into the 
sitting room to read the Bunnyville Bugle while Little 
Miss Mousie set the table. 

“Let me in,” all of a sudden cried a little voice at the 
window pane. 

When the old gentleman rabbit opened the window 
who do you suppose was outside? Why, a little white 
pigeon—one of Uncle Lucky’s pigeons, you know. 


188 LITTLE JACK RABBIT’S BIG BLUE BOOK 

“I’ve got something to tell you,” she whispered, perch¬ 
ing herself on the window sill. 

“What is it?” asked the old gentleman rabbit, cock¬ 
ing up both his long ears and wiggling his nose sideways. 



“I have five little pigeons in the barn,” she answered, 
and with a flutter of wings she flew back to her little birds. 

No sooner had Uncle Lucky closed the window than 
some one knocked on the front door. 

“Be careful,” whispered Mrs. Swallow from her tiny 
nest as Uncle Lucky hopped out on the front porch. 

The tiny sparrow’s bright eyes had spied Old Man 























VALENTINES 


Weasel under the woodpile, but I guess the dear old gen¬ 
tleman rabbit didn’t hear her for, without looking about, 
he shook hands with the Old Brown Horse. 

“How are all the folks?” asked Uncle Lucky kindly. 
“Anybody got the measles?” 

“Nope, but the automobile has a flat tire,” answered 
the friendly old horse. 

“Ha, ha!” laughed the old gentleman rabbit. “You 
should worry!” 

“I must get back before supper,” answered the Old 
Brown Horse. “Maybe I’ll be hitched up to the buggy. 
I come in very handy when something breaks down. 

“I used to pull the children 
In the buggy to the town, 

And over hill and thru the dale 
My feet went up and down. 

As o’er the road I trotted off 
The children sang with joy, 

But that was in the Long Ago 
When I was but a boy. 

It’s seldom now I take them out 
Or hear their merry, happy shout!” 

“Don’t feel sad,” begged dear Uncle Lucky, “your 
master is kind and let’s you feed on the meadow grass. 
You don’t have to pull a heavy cart like many an old 
horse.” 


190 LITTLE JACK RABBIT’S BIG BLUE BOOK 

“That’s true,” replied the Old Brown Horse, a smile 
spreading over his face. “Maybe I’m a little lonely for 
the children. They were so bright and happy.” 

But, oh, dear me! and oh, dear you! just then Old Man 
Weasel ran out from under the woodpile. 

“Help, help!” shouted the old gentleman bunny, “help, 
help, give me a club!” 

“I’ll look out for you,” answered the Old Brown 
Horse. Kicking out his left hind leg, he hit Old Man 
Weasel such a whack that the old sneak flew over the white 
picket fence like a baseball from the bat of Babe Ruth. 

“That’s a home run for him,” laughed the Old Brown 
Horse, watching Old Man Weasel spinning over the tree- 
top ; “when he comes down he’ll land in the kitchen and 
surprise his wife.” 

“Dearest me!” sighed poor frightened Uncle Lucky. 
“You did me a good turn.” 

“Don’t mention it,” answered the Old Brown Horse. 
“Glad to get a whack at that old thief. Maybe now he’ll 
stay home for a while.” 



N. N 


























BUNNY TALE 21 


PHOTOGRAPHER CRANE 

“One, two, three, Turkey Lane, 

Is this Mr. Photographer Crane? 

Please come up the Forest Path 
And take my picture with a laugh,” 

telephoned Little Jack Rabbit one morning, oh, so early, 
as Mr. Merry Sun was climbing the blue sky in his golden 
chariot. 

“All right, I’ll be there in a minute or three,” replied 
the kind photographer bird and, picking up his camera, 
he started off through the Shady Forest. It was quite a 
long walk, for his picture parlor was in Bunnybridge, 
you know, just over the River Sippi, but by and by, not 
so very far, for his long legs traveled pretty fast over the 
ground, he reached the Tall Pine Tree in which Professor 
J im Crow had his home. 

“Hello, Photographer Crane,” cawed the black bird 
professor, “where are you going?” 

“To take Little Jack Rabbit’s picture,” answered 
Photographer Crane, setting down his camera and wip¬ 
ing his beak with a red silk pocket handkerchief. 

“Wait a minute, my little crow boy wants his taken.” 

“Have no time,” answered the picture bird man. 


192 LITTLE JACK RABBIT’S BIG BLUE BOOK 

“Oh, please take a photograph of my little crow boy,” 
begged Professor Jim Crow. “It won’t take you a minute 
—here he is now.” 

“Oh, all right,” answered Photographer Crane, set¬ 
ting up his camera. 

“Now be quiet, don’t you sneeze, 

Smile a little if you please! 

Smooth your feathers nice and trim, 

You’ll look like your father Jim,” 

sang Photographer Crane in a sing-song voice from un¬ 
der the big black cloth, which he had pulled over his 
head as Blackie Crow stood very stiff and very still on a 
big limb of the Tall Pine Tree. Then with a squeeze of 
the little rubber bulb the picture was taken. “How many 
do you want?” he asked, folding up the camera. 

“Maybe a dozen,” replied Professor Crow. “Send 
your bill with them.” 

“I won’t forget that,” chuckled the Picture Bird as he 
hurried along. Pretty soon he came to the Big Brown 
Bear’s Cozy Cave. 

“Stop! Wait! Hey there!” shouted the Big Brown 
Bear, “I want my picture taken.” 

“Can’t wait,” answered the nervous crane, “I’m on 
my way to the Old Bramble Patch.” 

“It won’t take you a minute,” answered the Big Brown 
Bear. “Open up your picture box and take my photo.” 

“Oh, botheration!” exclaimed Photographer Crane, 


PHOTOGRAPHER CRANE 


i93 


again setting up his camera as the Big Brown Bear brushed 
his hair and combed his trousers. I beg your pardon, I 
mean combed his hair and brushed his trousers. Then, 
sitting down on a wooden bench and lighting his pipe, he 
waited to be photographed. But, dear me! Photographer 
Crane was so dreadfully nervous and his legs so trembly 
that the camera wiggled and jiggled and I fear the picture 
will look like seven or eight bears dancing in front of the 
Cozy Cave. 

“Dear me!” sighed the poor nervous photographer 
bird as he hurried away, “I’ll never reach the Old Bramble 
Patch, and I must not disappoint Little Jack Rabbit.” But 
no sooner had he finished speaking than out jumped 
Old Man Weasel. I wonder if he wants his photo taken. 
Maybe he just feels hungry and will eat poor Photographer 
Crane. 

“S O S. Oh, please come quick 

And bring your big old hickory stick; 

There’s danger in the forest lane, 

Oh, come and help poor Mr. Crane,” 

shouted Professor Jim Crow over his radio as that mean 
Weasel crept out from behind a tree. 

Of course he did it so softly that Photographer Crane 
never heard him. He had been hopping along on his 
long thin legs, his camera over his back, feeling quite 
contented at having taken two pictures. 

A good day’s work, and the day only half over. Pretty 


194 LITTLE JACK RABBIT’S BIG BLUE BOOK 

soon he would be at the Old Bramble Patch to make a 
beautiful photograph of Little Jack Rabbit. 

“Maybe I’ll take it in colors,” he was thinking. “This 
little bunny boy rabbit is such a nice youngster.” 

Poor Photographer Crane! He didn’t see Old Man 
Weasel only a few feet behind. No, indeed. If he had 
he might have dropped his big camera and maybe hurt 
the little bird which all good photographers ask us to 
watch until he squeezes the little rubber bulb. 

But, no, sir! the good-hearted Photographer Crane 
never suspected for a moment that he was in danger. My, 
but it was mighty lucky that just then Professor Crow 
chanced to look down from his Tall Pine Tree House. 
Dear me! I can’t bear to think what would have happened 
pretty soon, and maybe mighty quick, to Photographer 
Crane if the good professor bird had looked the other 
way! 

“Bless my gold stripes and twenty-five silver buttons!” 
exclaimed the brave Policeman Dog on hearing the radio 
call. Jumping up from his mahogany desk, in less time 
than I can take to tell it, he picked up his big hickory club 
and hurried to the Tall Pine Tree. 

“Ha, ha!” chuckled the wicked Weasel to himself 
as he crept after poor Photographer Crane, “in just two 
minutes or three I’ll bite in two his long skinny left leg, 
ha, ha!” 

“I’ll soon be at the Old Bramble Patch,” thought the 
kind camera picture bird, strutting along, first on one leg 
and then on the other. “I’ll make a beautiful picture of 


PHOTOGRAPHER CRANE 


i95 


the pretty yellow canary swinging in her gold cage on the 
front porch, the shiny brass knob on the front door, Lady 
Love standing on the kitchen porch and Little Jack Rab¬ 
bit feeding the pigeons.” 

“Gracious me! I wish the Policeman Dog would 
hurry,” sighed the anxious but learned old crow bird, peer¬ 
ing down from his Tall Pine Tree House. He could just 
see Old Man Weasel’s tail as he crept, oh, so softly 
after Mr. Crane. 

“I won’t do a thing to that old Weasel,” laughed the 
Policeman Dog, as he ran swiftly through the forest. 

“My, this camera is heavy,” sighed Photographer 
Crane, slipping it off his back. “I guess I’ll rest a minute 
or three,” and down he sat on an old log. He didn’t see 
Old Man Weasel lean around a tree. Oh, my, no! 

But don’t worry, little reader, when “Pop goes the 
weasel!” as they used to sing in the country when I was 
a boy. 

Yes, “Pop” went Old Man Weasel, and the next 
minute poor Photographer Crane found himself under¬ 
neath that wicked furry animal. 

“Help! Help!” shouted the long-legged camera man 
bird, giving a kick-out with his long left leg. 

“Keep quiet,” snarled Old Man Weasel, trying his 
best to bite the poor struggling Crane’s bobbing-about 
head. 

“Help! help!” shouted more loudly Photographer 
Crane. “Help! Help! Please help me, somebody!” 

“I will,” replied the Policeman Dog, swinging his 


196 LITTLE JACK RABBIT’S BIG BLUE BOOK 

big hickory stick in the air. Down it came, whacko! on 
the wicked Weasel’s little red cap. 

“Ouch! Ouch!” he whined, letting Photographer 
Crane go in a hurry. 

The next minute the Policeman Dog slipped a pair 
of handcuffs over that old Weasel’s front paws. 

“Dear, dear me!” sighed poor Photographer Crane, 
struggling to his feet, no easy matter, let me tell you. Like 
walking up to the top of the Woolworth Building when 
the elevators are on strike! At last, when he had 
straightened out his long, thin knobby legs, he turned 
to the kind Policeman Dog. 

“Whenever you want your picture taken, come to me. 
I’ll take you in fourteen different poses for less than 
nothing. Why, I’ll tint them in pretty colors and maybe 
win a Little Jack Rabbit book for a prize.” 

Then off he went to the Old Bramble Patch as the 
Policeman Dog trotted away with Old Man Weasel to 
the Jail House in Carrot City. 

At last Photographer Crane reached the Old Bramble 
Patch. There stood Lady Love and Little Jack Rabbit at 
the front gate, dressed in their Sunday-go-to-meeting 
clothes, ready and smiling for a picture. 

“Now look pleasant,” said Photographer Crane, set¬ 
ting up his big camera on its three long slender yellow 
legs, though why he said it when both little bunnies were 
all smiles puzzles me, but I guess it must have been from 
force of habit. 


PHOTOGRAPHER CRANE 


197 


“Now look as happy as you can, 

Don’t you move, my bunny man. 

Lady Love, smile ’neath your bonnet, 

A butterfly is sitting on it.” 6 

“All over!” he said in a minute. That is, after he had 
squeezed a little rubber ball on the end of a rubber tube. 
“All over,” and he smiled at the two little bunnies. 

“I hope my hair wasn’t all mussed,” sighed the little 
rabbit’s pretty mother. 

“You’re the prettiest bunny I ever photographed,” said 
the picture-taker bird. “Your blue apron will look just 
lovely in the photo.” 

“Ha, ha!” laughed Lady Love, hopping into the 
kitchen to look at the lollypop stew. 

Then, folding up his camera, Photographer Crane 
went home to his picture parlor, to which some day you 
boys and girls may go to have your photos taken. 


BUNNY TALE 22 


“everybody inn” 

Down the Shady Forest Trail 
Twinkles here and there a tail, 

Tails of squirrels, gray and red, 

Tails of feathered folk o’erhead. 

If you’re patient I’ll not fail 
To tell another rabbit tale. 

Listen now to my story, dear little boys and girls. 
Here we go, my typewriter and I, both of us together, to 
spin a tale of a dear little rabbit. By the way, I’ve forgot¬ 
ten where we left off a while ago. Was it about the Circus 
Elephant? Oh, dear, no! This is not the time for the 
circus. Was it about Little Jack Rabbit and Chippy Chip¬ 
munk? No? Well, it might have been about the old 
gentleman rabbit, for I hear a horn and here comes Uncle 
Lucky in his Luckymobile. 

In hopped the little rabbit and away they went, honk! 
honk! honk! 

For the Luckymobile could go like the wind 
And it always left everything far behind. 

Not even a deer on his swift flying feet 
With the Luckymobile had a chance to compete. 

198 


EVERYBODY INN’ 


199 


All of a sudden, just like that, or the crack of a pistol, 
a voice shouted: 

“Stop! stop!” 

“Now, who do you suppose that is?” asked the old gen¬ 
tleman rabbit, returning the salute by honking the horn 
two times and a half, Honk! Honk! Buzz! 

“I’m sorry it’s you, Mr. Lucky Lefthindfoot,” said the 
Policeman Dog, with a nice kind of a growl, jumping up 
from behind a tree. “I’d much rather arrest Danny Fox. 
Yes, indeed.” 

“Then why don’t you?” asked the old gentleman rab¬ 
bit, with a laugh, handing the policeman dog a ten dollar 
lettuce leaf bill. Goodness me! you should have seen that 
Policeman Dog smile. He showed all his teeth and his 
spiked collar! 

“All right, Mr. Lucky Lefthindfoot. I’ll go down to 
the Three-in-One Cent Store to buy my wife a new wash¬ 
ing board,” and off he ran to get this lovely present. 

“Let’s be a little more careful,” advised Uncle Lucky, 
when once more on their way. “I have with me only three 
hundred ten dollar lettuce leaf bills and I don’t want to 
spend them all before reaching home. 

“When I was young, oh, me, or you! 

Tra la loo, tra la loo! 

I used to dance ’most every night 
Until the sun was shining bright. 

But now I ride in my little Tin Liz 
Because of my bothery rheumatiz!” 


200 LITTLE JACK RABBIT’S BIG BLUE BOOK 

Now while the two little bunnies were speeding home 
to Uncle Lucky’s little white house a great com-mo-tion 
was going on in the Shady Forest. 

For almost two hours Grandmother Magpie had 
watched the big stranger tear up the trees. But as soon 
as he began to build a house, away she flew to spread the 
news. 

“I have something to tell you!” cried the old lady Mag¬ 
pie, as pretty Lady Love opened the kitchen door in the 
Old Bramble Patch to see who was knocking. 

“Oh, it’s you, is it?” she sighed, and maybe her voice 
sounded a little bit disappointed for she didn’t like Old 
Mother Mischief, not the least little bit. 

“Oh, yes, I’ve some wonderful news,” answered the 
old lady Magpie, fluttering up on the window-sill. “What 
do you think? There’s a big elephant in the Shady Forest.” 

“You don’t say so!” exclaimed Lady Love. “Maybe 
it’s Little Jack Rabbit’s friend, the Circus Elephant.” 

“That’s just who it is,” agreed Grandmother Magpie, 
“for I saw him practicing all kinds of funny tricks. Why, 
he stood on his head and waved a little American flag with 
his tail. Then he sat on a big blue barrel and blew a 
bugle.” 

“Gracious me!” laughed Lady Love, “I wish Little 
Jack Rabbit were home.” 

“Where is he?” asked Grandmother Magpie, for she 
was a very curious person, let me tell you. 

“Over at his Uncle Lucky’s,” answered Lady Love. 
“I’m going to call him up on the telephone,” and at once 


‘EVERYBODY INN’ 


201 


the dear little lady rabbit hopped into the hall and rang 
up, “One, two, three, Rabbitville, U. S. A.” In a few 
minutes Mr. Lucky Lefthindfoot’s voice answered. 
“Helloa, who is it?” No sooner had Lady Love told him 
the news than he shut off the telephone and called to Little 



Jack Rabbit, who was out in the garden eating lettuce 
sandwiches. 

“Little Jack Rabbit! Your Elephant circus friend is 
in the Shady Forest.” Then you should have seen that lit¬ 
tle rabbit hop into the house. 
























202 LITTLE JACK RABBIT’S BIG BLUE BOOK 

“Let’s ride over in the Luckymobile. I haven’t seen 
my elephant friend since the circus.” 

Pretty soon as they passed the Big Brown Bear’s Cozy 
Cave they were surprised to see that big brown furry ani¬ 
mal sitting outside in the sunshine having his picture 
taken. 


“Please don’t wiggle, 

Please don’t sneeze 
If I tickle both your knees,” 

they heard Photographer Crane say as he squeezed the 
little rubber ball. 

“Goodness gracious meebus!” exclaimed Uncle Lucky. 
“How often does the Big Brown Bear have his photograph 
taken?” 

“Oh, I know why,” cried the little rabbit. “I guess the 
one he took the other day didn’t turn out well.” 

“Heigh diddle diddle, 

And heigh diddle di, 

The cat has been eating 
A little mouse pie,” 

sang dear Uncle Lucky. 

“Who’s singing?” all of a sudden, just like that, en¬ 
quired a voice through the trees. But the two little rab¬ 
bits made no answer, thinking it might be Old Man 
Weasel. 


‘EVERYBODY INN’ 


203 


“Hush!” whispered Uncle Lucky. “Who do you sup¬ 
pose it is?” 

“I don’t know,” answered the little rabbit, taking his 
pop-gun from his knapsack. 

Again the same voice began to sing: 

“I was always content when on pleasure bent, 

Heigh hoo and a bottle of pop. 

But no longer I’ll roam for I’ve built me a home, 

And here in the forest I’ll stop.” 

“It’s my elephant friend,” laughed the little rabbit. “I 
know his voice.” Just then they came in sight of a big 
log house. At the front door on a three-legged stool sat 
the kind Elephant, smoking a big cigar. 

Well, sir! You should have seen those two dear little 
rabbits hop out of the Luckymobile! Why, Uncle Lucky 
hopped out so quickly that his old wedding stovepipe hat 
fell off his head and rolled on top of a little ant hill. It 
took the poor little ant and her four thousand nine hun¬ 
dred and ninety-nine uncles and cousins and sisters almost 
an hour to push it off, but Uncle Lucky was too busy talk¬ 
ing to the Elephant to notice what was going on. 

Well, by and by, when there was nothing more to talk 
over, except the folks at home and the new baby across the 
way, Little Jack Rabbit said; 

“Come out for a ride in the Luckymobile, 

It’s such a long time since you went. 


204 LITTLE JACK RABBIT’S BIG BLUE BOOK 

We’ll sure bring you back to your little log shack. 
Do you like it as well as a tent?” 

“I like it better in the winter,” answered the Elephant. 
“But I’ve had lots of fun at the circus! Do you remember 
one day last summer I shouted, ‘Give me a peanut!’ ” 



“Of course I do,” answered the bunny boy. 

“Well, don’t let’s talk of that now. We’ll go Lucky- 
mobiling.” 

Locking the door of his log hut, he put the key in an 
empty bird’s nest and climbed into the Luckymobile. 







“EVERYBODY INN : 


205 


And as soon as Uncle Lucky had picked up his old wed¬ 
ding stovepipe hat and put on his goggles, away they went. 

“Oh, isn’t it fine to be skimming along 

In the Luckymobile with a laugh and a song 
And maybe a whistle, and maybe a toot, 

As over the roadway we rapidly scoot,” 

merrily sang the dear old gentleman rabbit. 

“Gee Willie Kins!” exclaimed the Elephant. “Aren’t 
we going fast?” 

“Not a bit!” answered Uncle Lucky, smiling as the 
Elephant held on to his big ears for fear they’d blow off of 
his head. 

“Dear, dear!” he cried, “I can’t get my breath!” After 
which, of course, the old gentleman rabbit slowed down, 
not wishing to make his elephant friend too cross. 

Well, by and by, after a while, they came to a little 
hotel. On the big sign-board that creaked above the front 
door when the wind blew, was written: 

“Everybody Inn.” 

“Good gracious meebus!” giggled the old gentleman 
rabbit, “if everybody’s in will there be room for us?” And 
he laughed so hard at his own joke that his old wedding 
stovepipe hat fell over one ear and he couldn’t hear what 
the Elephant said. 

“Let’s get out and have an ice cream cone,” suggested 


206 LITTLE JACK RABBIT’S BIG BLUE BOOK 

Little Jack Rabbit. Just like every little boy and girl I 
know—crazy over ice cream cones. 

“All right,” agreed dear Uncle Lucky, hopping out to 
tie the Luckymobile to the old hitching post in front of the 
inn. Then hopping up on the piazza, they all sat down 
at a little round green table and waited for some one to 
take their order. 

Well, after a minute or maybe three a little white duck 
in a pink apron waddled out and asked: 

“What can I do for you, gentlemen?” 

“Ice cream cones for three,” answered Uncle Lucky, 
just like that. So back into the hotel waddled the little 
white duck, returning presently with a silver tray on which 
were three ice cream cones, three lady fingers and three 
little paper napkins with roses in the corner. But, oh, dear 
me! the Elephant ate so fast that he got a dreadful head¬ 
ache and had to lie down in the hammock. And, oh, dear 
me! again. The next minute the hammock broke down 
with a terrible bump and out ran the little white duck to 
see what all the noise was about. 

“Mercy me!” she said. “Did you hurt yourself?” 

“I’d feel a lot worse had I hurt any one as badly,” an¬ 
swered the Elephant, rubbing his left hind leg with his 
trunk and wiping his eyes with Uncle Lucky’s blue silk 
polkadot handkerchief, which the old gentleman rabbit 
had politely handed to him. 

“Perhaps you’d better take me back to my little house 
in the Shady Forest,” sighed the Circus Elephant. So 
away they went to his little log hut. 


EVERYBODY INN : 


207 


But when he went to look for the front door key in 
the empty bird’s nest, it wasn’t there. 

“What shall I do?’’ he asked, sitting down and rest¬ 
ing his trunk on the front door-step. “How am I to get 
in?” 

Just then who should come by but Grandmother Mag¬ 
pie. Now you know that magpies are very mischievous, 
picking up and carrying away all sorts of things. So as 
soon as Little Jack Rabbit saw Grandmother Mischief, 
he shouted: 

“If you have taken the elephant’s key 
You’ll soon be sorry as sorry can be. 

For I’ll go tell Professor Crow, 

And then you’ll be more sorry, I know. 

For he’ll tell Mr. Owl and Mr. Mouse 
You’ve stolen the key to the elephant’s house.” 

Well, sir! As soon as that mischievous old magpie 
heard that she looked in her little black vanity bag. 

“Is this it?” she asked, holding up a big brass key. 

“Let me try it,” answered the elephant, taking the key 
in the little finger on the end of his trunk and fitting it to 
the lock. But when he looked around Old Grandmother 
Magpie had flown away. Yes, sir, she hadn’t waited a 
minute. I guess she didn’t want him to point his little 
finger at her and say: 

“You’re a thief, you’re a thief! 

Better hide behind a leaf 


208 LITTLE JACK RABBIT’S BIG BLUE BOOK 

Or take wing and fly away, 

So you won’t hear people say; 

‘You will have to go to jail 

And wear a handcuff on your tail!’ ” 

Well, after that, the two little rabbits said good-by to 
the Elephant and turned off for home. 

As the Luckymobile spun along Uncle Lucky began 
to sing, for he was a very musical old rabbit and had a 
lovely tenor voice. 

“If you’re not old enough to go 
To see a lovely movie show, 

You’re old enough I know to play 
That you’re a hero every day.” 

By and by, after a while, the Luckymobile stopped at 
his little white house. 

Oh, the little shady front porch 
Is quite the coolest spot, 

And in the hammock one may swing 
When it is piping hot. 

The little sparrow in her nest 
Upon the topmost beam 
Is telling to her little ones 
A pretty fairy dream. 



EVERYBODY INN 1 


209 


And while she sings so soft and low 
Dear Uncle Lucky down below 
Goes sound to sleep, and on the floor 
His book falls from his tired paw. 

“Goodness gracious meebus!” exclaimed the old gen¬ 
tleman rabbit. “Did I go to sleep?” 

“Cock-a-doodle-do!” laughed the Old Red Rooster, 
who was cutting the grass. 

Rubbing his eyes, dear Uncle Lucky looked around 
for Little Jack Rabbit, but he couldn’t see him anywhere 
although he peeped in the croquet box and behind the big 
horse-chestnut tree. 

You see, if his little rabbit nephew wasn’t near him all 
the time the old gentleman bunny felt mighty lonely. 

Just then Little Jack Rabbit with two ice cream cones 
in his right front paw, hopped up the front walk. You 
should have seen Uncle Lucky smile. He smiled so hard 
that his old wedding stovepipe hat dropped off his head 
and his blue silk polkadot handkerchief bow twisted up 
under his left ear. 

“Oh, that’s the nicest thing you could bring this hot 
day,” he exclaimed, after which he didn’t say a word until 
the ice cream cone was safely tucked under his pink waist¬ 
coat. 

Pretty soon all the little Cousin Cottontails happened 
in. At once dear generous Uncle Lucky opened a big 
box of lollypops and they all had a lovely feast. 


210 LITTLE JACK RABBIT’S BIG BLUE BOOK 

By and by when the lollypops were all gone where 
good lollypops go, and the little Cottontails had hopped 
home to the Old Brush Heap, all of a sudden there sounded 
a loud chirping from the pasture just back of the house. 
Off the porch hopped the two bunnies, lipperty lip, clip- 
perty clip, to see what was the matter. Oh, dear me, it 
was a sad sight that met their eyes on reaching the old 
apple tree in the green pasture. A young cowbird, hatched 
from an egg which her lazy mother had laid in a Yellow 
Throat’s nest, was pushing out the little Yellow Throats. 
One by one with her beak she lifted them over the edge 
of the nest, and as the poor little things were too young 
to fly, they fell to the ground. 

“Isn’t that a shame?” cried kind Uncle Lucky, hop¬ 
ping back to the tool house for a ladder. Placing it against 
the old apple tree, he carried the little Yellow Throats up 
to their nest. 

“What are you going to do with the Cowbird?” asked 
Little Jack Rabbit. The old gentleman rabbit scratched 
his head, not knowing just what to do. You see, he had 
such a kind heart that he didn’t want to hurt it, although 
it had been so cruel to the little Yellow Throats. I wish 
every one had as kind a heart. 

“I’ve got an idea!” all of a sudden, just like that, an¬ 
swered Uncle Lucky. “I’ll put her in the little empty bird 
house,” and away he hopped with the Cowbird under his 
right front paw. 

“Get the ladder,” he shouted. As soon as Little Jack 
Rabbit had placed it against the tall white pole that stood 


EVERYBODY INN 


211 


in the middle of the lawn the old gentleman rabbit climbed 
up and placed the Cowbird in the birdhouse. 

“Goodness me!” he said, scrambling down to the 
ground, “it will be some job to feed that hungry bird,” 
and he took off his wedding stovepipe hat to scratch his 
left ear. 


“Who will feed this little bird 
Until his wings grow strong? 

’Twill be an awful job, I think, 

And keep me all day long.” 

“We’ll help,” answered Mr. and Mrs. Yellow Throat. 
Wasn’t that kind of them? Next, little Mrs. Sparrow 
fluttered over from the front porch and said she’d do her 
best to keep little Cowbird from starving. 

“Well, that’s very kind of you all,” said the old gentle¬ 
man rabbit. “I’ll dig some worms right away,” and over 
to the tool-house he hopped for his spade. 

“Oh, never harm a bird that flies 
Up in the country of the skies, 

Or twitters in the Shady tree, 

For God has made them to be free. 

Oh, never harm four-footed folk; 

Nor play on them an unkind joke 
For God has made them, one and all, 

From tiny ant to giraffe tall.” 


212 LITTLE JACK RABBIT’S BIG BLUE BOOK 

Now who do you suppose sang this song? Even dear 
Uncle Lucky didn’t know. As the voice seemed to come 
through the open window of the old gentleman rabbit’s 
little white house, in he hopped to find out. And what 
do you suppose he discovered? Why, the graphophone 
playing away all by itself. Wasn’t that wonderful? Well, 
I just guess it was. But then there are lots of wonderful 
things now-a-days. Ships that fly through the air and un¬ 
der the water and little boys and girls who are growing 
up to be kind-hearted men and women. 


BUNNY TALE 23 


THE RAGGED RABBIT GIANT 

Oh, lovely roses come in June, 

The Bubbling Brook has learned a tune, 

And all the birds on bush and tree 
Are singing songs for you and me. 

“Ha, ha,” laughed Little Jack Rabbit, as he hopped 
over the Sunny Meadow, “I wonder if Timmie Meadow- 
mouse is home.” 

Pretty soon the little bunny stopped before a round 
grass ball that hung between three strong stalks. 

“Timmie Meadowmouse!” he shouted, “come out and 
play!” Pretty soon a tiny head peeked out of the grass 
house and a little voice answered: 

“Oh, it’s you, is it?” 

“Yes, it’s me,” replied Little Jack Rabbit, although 
he should have said, “It’s I.” But what do we care? 
Teacher isn’t around and school will soon be over and we 
will be in clover. 

“What do you want?” asked the little meadowmouse, 
jumping down to the ground. “How is Uncle Lucky?” 

“He’s all right,” answered the little bunny. “Have 
you heard what a dreadful time we had with Hungry 
Hawk?” 


213 


214 LITTLE JACK RABBIT’S BIG BLUE BOOK 

“No, tell me about it,” replied Timmie Meadowmouse. 
“Dear me, how I do hate that wicked bird. He’s always 
flying over the Sunny Meadow, looking here and looking 
there. But I always try to be here when he’s looking 
there,” and Timmie Meadowmouse winked his eye like a 
wise little mouse boy. 

“Oh, we had a dreadful time the other day,” went on 
Little Jack Rabbit. “Hungry Hawk almost pushed in 
through the kitchen door. If Uncle Lucky hadn’t slammed 
it on his hooked beak, making him fast, I don’t believe 
the Policeman Dog could have caught him.” 

“You don’t say so,” exclaimed Timmie Meadowmouse. 

“Yes, I do,” answered the little bunny boy. “And 
pretty soon after we had tied the door tight so that the old 
hawk couldn’t pull away his beak, the Policeman Dog ar¬ 
rived and arrested him. Now he’s in the jail house in 
Rabbitville.” 

“Then I shall have some peace for a while,” laughed 
the timid little meadowmouse. “Oh, I’m so glad!” and 
he skipped over the meadow and after him hopped the 
little bunny boy. By and by, after a while, but not nearly 
a mile, they came to the Old Rail Fence, on the top of which 
sat Chippy Chipmunk in his striped fur jacket. 

“What makes you two fellows so frisky?” he asked. 

“Oh, just because we’re happy,” answered the little 
meadowmouse. 

“That’s it,” laughed Little Jack Rabbit. “When 
you’re happy your feet just skiptoe over the ground. You 
almost think you’re flying.” 


THE RAGGED RABBIT GIANT 


215 

“Stuff and nonsense,” said a voice, all of a sudden, just 
like that. 

Dear me, I suppose I should have kept you from wor¬ 
rying by telling you right off whose voice it was that 
shouted “Stuff and nonsense!” 

It was Grandmother Magpie’s. That’s whose voice it 
was. And the old lady blackbird looked most forbidding, 
let me tell you. Oh, yes, she did, and no mistake about it. 

“Good morning,” said the little bunny boy. 

“I hope you’re well,” cried Timmie Meadowmouse. 

“It’s a lovely day,” chimed in Chippy Chipmunk. 

“What were you saying about flying?” asked Grand¬ 
mother Magpie, with a toss of her head. 

“Dear me, I’ve forgotten,” sighed Little Jack Rabbit. 
“I was so happy a minute ago and now I’ve forgotten what 
made me so.” 

“You haven’t answered my question,” went on Grand¬ 
mother Magpie, sometimes called Old Mother Mischief 
because she is always interfering in other people’s busi¬ 
ness. 

“Mother told me not to answer your questions,” re¬ 
plied Little Jack Rabbit. 

“What?” almost screamed Grandmother Magpie. 

“Yes, she did,” went on the little bunny boy rabbit, 
brave as a lion,—a little lion, of course,—not a great big 
one. “She said you meddled too much with every one’s 
affairs.” 

“Oh, she did, did she?” snapped old lady blackbird, 
and without another word she flew away. 


216 LITTLE JACK RABBIT’S BIG BLUE BOOK 

“Oh, isn’t she mad,” laughed Chippy Chipmunk. 
“Serves her right,” cried Timmie Meadowmouse. 
“She’s the most disagreeable thing in the whole Shady 
Forest.” 



“Oh, she did, did she?” 

“Don’t forget Old Man Weasel,” said Little Jack 
Rabbit. 

“Nor Danny Fox,” chirped Bobbie Redvest. “Guess 
I’ll go with you.” 

“Come along,” answered the little bunny boy. “I’m 
on my way to Cozy Cave to see the Big Brown Bear,” and 
away he hopped, lipperty lip, clipperty clip, up the Shady 






THE RAGGED RABBIT GIANT 


217 


Forest Trail, in and out among the trees, through the glen 
and up the wooded hillside till he reached Mr. Bear’s 
dwelling place. 

“My, but I’m tired,” sighed the little bunny boy rab¬ 
bit, seating himself on the big wooden bench just outside 
the Cozy Cave. “I wonder where the Big Brown Bear 
has gone,” and he looked this way and that way, up and 
down, back and forth, but no big brown fur overcoat came 
into view. 

By and by, not so very long, the little rabbit boy 
bunny fell asleep. At first he closed only one eye, his left 
eye. Then he opened it and shut his right eye. After a 
little he closed them both for a minute, but the next time 
he forgot to open them. 

Dear, dear me! I hope nothing dreadful happens to 
Little Jack Rabbit before he wakes up. 

Pretty soon as the little rabbit slept on who should 
come tiptoeing by but Old Man Weasel. Dear, dear 
me! No sooner did he see Little Jack Rabbit than he tip¬ 
toed even more softly around the big tree. Then he peeked 
out, first on one side and then on the other. I suppose he 
thought the Big Brown Bear might be in his cave wrap¬ 
ping up Lollypops and Ice Cream Cones. 

By and by the old weasel grew bolder. Nobody came 
around and the little bunny boy rabbit kept on sleeping, 
oh, so peacefully, dreaming about red clover tops and 
carrot candies and ’licious lollypops and marshmallow 
drops. 

“Ha, ha!” cried the old weasel, softly, just to himself, 


218 LITTLE JACK RABBIT’S BIG BLUE BOOK 

you know, as he sneaked on his tippy toes toward the Cozy 
Cave. “Ha, ha! Won’t I have a nice dinner,” he whis¬ 
pered, smacking his lips,—yes, he smacked them again! 

“Wake up!” shouted Bobbie Redvest so loudly that 
Little Jack Rabbit woke up with a start. And then right 
over the wicked Weasel he hopped just like a frog and 
away through the Shady Forest until he bumped right 
into the Big Brown Bear. 

“Oh, dear, and oh, dear!” he cried. “I’m glad it’s you, 
but why didn’t you come sooner?” 

“Why?” asked the nice kind old bear with a good-na¬ 
tured grin. “Better late than never.” 

“Oh, yes, oh, yes,” answered the frightened little bunny 
boy rabbit. “But if you’d only come two minutes ago I’d 
still be dreaming I was eating lemon drops and lollypops, 
clover tops and marshmallow drops.” 

“Well, I’m glad I waited,” replied the Big Brown Bear. 
“If you had eaten much more you’d have been, and maybe 
you will be, twisted into a double bowknot by a tummy 
ache.” 

“What?” cried the little rabbit. 

“Well, perhaps not,” laughed the big bear. “Come, 
turn around and go home with me. I’ll give you a drink 
of Cranberry Tea.” 

Then arm in arm, although of course the Big Brown 
Bear had to lean way over and way down, they both went 
up the Shady Forest Trail till they came to the Cozy Cave. 
Of course Old Man Weasel was nowhere to be seen, 


THE RAGGED RABBIT GIANT 


219 


although they both looked for him here and there and 
everywhere. At last the Big Brown Bear said: 

“Maybe you dreamed about him.” 

“No, no, no! I can remember all my dreams,” cried 
the little bunny boy rabbit. “And sometimes I feel I’m 
dreaming all day, I’ve formed such a strange dreamy 
habit.” 

“Gracious me!” exclaimed the Big Brown Bear. 
“You’re a queer little bunny boy. You’re a Peter Pan 
Bunny, so you are.” 

“Tell me a story, won’t you?” asked Little Jack Rab¬ 
bit, hopping up on the bench beside the Big Brown Bear. 
“Tell me a story. I love to hear about rabbit giants and 
bunny dwarfs.” 

“Ho, hum,” sighed the Big Brown Bear, “I’m not 
much of a story teller. Let me see. Maybe I can remem¬ 
ber one that my old grandmother told me when I was 
a cub. My, but that’s a long time ago. I hope my mem¬ 
ory is as good as my appetite.” 

“Please hurry,” begged the little rabbit boy bunny. 

“Well, here we go,” laughed the good-natured bear. 
“Once upon a time there lived a rabbit giant who had 
only one tooth. But it was an immense big tooth. Oh, 
my, yes. It was so long that it came down beyond his lip 
about two inches. This made him look very fierce, oh, 
very fierce indeed, and all the rabbits and bunnies and 
hares for miles and miles around were afraid of him. 
They hardly dared to pass his big dark bungalow, half 


220 LITTLE JACK RABBIT’S BIG BLUE BOOK 

hidden in a scraggly bramble patch in a stony, barren 
field. 

“One day as the Ragged Rabbit Giant (for he lived 
all by himself without wife or children and so had no¬ 
body to mend his clothes and teach him to be polite) 
hopped out of his broken-down, disorderly bungalow, 
whom should he meet but a fairy bunny. Such a pretty 
fairy lady bunny rabbit. 

“ ‘Oh, my, oh, dear, oh, me, oh, my!’ she exclaimed, 
‘why don’t you get a hair cut and a new suit of clothes? 
And why don’t you mend your bramble patch bungalow 
house?’ 

“ ‘What’s the use?’ replied the big rabbit man. ‘I’m 
so big and homely and one-toothed that nobody cares 
about me. All the bunny boys and rabbit girls are afraid 
of me, and I’ve grown so lonesome. No one comes to 
see me, only a friendly fly and a little black cricket.’ 

“ ‘You seem to have a kind heart,’ said the lady bunny 
fairy queen, although I didn’t mention before that she was 
a queen. But she is, just the same. 

“ ‘Are you very lonely and unhappy?’ she asked, as the 
big bunny giant gave a tre-men-dous sigh. 

“ ‘Oh, yes,’ he answered, ‘I’m so lonely that it hurts.’ 

“ ‘Now you just wait a minute,’ said the bunny fairy 
queen. ‘Sit down and fold your paws over your ragged 
waistcoat and say after me: 

“ ‘Winky pinky lollypops, 

Ice cream cones and chocolate drops.’ 


THE RAGGED RABBIT GIANT 


221 


“So the big sorrowful Ragged Rabbit Giant sat down 
and repeated after her: 

“ ‘Winky pinky lollypops, 

Ice cream cones and chocolate drops.’ 

“Well, no sooner had the bunny giant said these mar¬ 
velous words than he changed into a very nice-looking 
rabbit man, with a new coat and hat, well fitting trousers 
and tan shoes, and where his ugly long tooth had once 
been, now appeared a good cabbage leaf cigar. 

“ ‘Now see what I’ve done for you,’ cried the fairy 
bunny queen. 

“ ‘I can’t,’ answered the rabbit giant. ‘My little 
cracked looking-glass is home in the bungalow.’ 

“ ‘Well, never mind,’ replied the fairy queen bunny 
lady rabbit, ‘you may wait till you go home. But be¬ 
fore you leave I must tell you why I’ve made you into 
such a nice-looking gentleman rabbit bunny.’ 

“ ‘Do tell me,’ said the rabbit giant, although now, of 
course, he was a giant no more,—just a nice large-sized 
bunny rabbit man. 

“ ‘I want you to surprise the friendly fly and the little 
black cricket. You’ve been so very kind to them that they 
probably think you’re very nice-looking. But just wait 
till they see you now.’ 

“ ‘Oh, I’m so glad,’ said the rabbitman, ‘I’ll hop right 
home, but on my way I’ll pick some flowers and a lolly- 
pop off the lollypop tree. My little friends will like them,’ 


222 LITTLE JACK RABBIT’S BIG BLUE BOOK 

and away went the rabbitman, happy to think that he 
could please a fly and a cricket.” 

“That’s a very nice story,” said Little Jack Rabbit. 
“But please keep on till the rabbitman gets home to his 
bungalow. I want to hear what the fly and the cricket 
say when they see him. They will be so surprised that 
he isn’t a ragged giant rabbitman any more.” 

“To be sure,” said the Big Brown Bear. “Now, let 
me see. I hope my memory doesn’t fail me right here. 
It’s behaved very well so far. Oh, yes, now I know what 
happened as soon as the rabbitman walked into his big 
dark bungalow. 

“ ‘Who’s that?’ cried the little cricket. 

“ ‘What do you want?’ asked the fly. 

“ ‘Don’t you know me?’ asked the rabbitman, ‘I’m 
the Ragged Rabbit Giant.’ 

“ ‘No, you’re not,’ answered the fly. 

“ ‘Of course you’re not,’ shouted the little cricket. 

“ ‘But I am,’ retorted the rabbitman. ‘See, I know 
where my looking-glass is. I must find it for I’ve not 
seen myself since the fairy rabbit queen changed me into 
a nice-looking rabbit.’ 

“ ‘I don’t believe you,’ shouted the little cricket, who 
couldn’t understand how the fairy queen rabbit lady could 
make him into such a nice-looking bunnyman. 

“ ‘You get out of here! No one shall touch our mas¬ 
ter’s things,’ commanded the little fly, stinging the rab¬ 
bitman on his long left ear. 

“ ‘Dear, dear me,’ he said, ‘how am I to convince these 


THE RAGGED RABBIT GIANT 


223 


two that I am really the Ragged Rabbit Giant, only 
changed into some one nicer looking.’ 

“ ‘We always liked our Ragged Rabbit Giant,’ said 
the little cricket. ‘He was good to us. He fed and shel¬ 
tered and never drove us away. Oh, yes, he was kind 
and good, and we expect him back any minute, so you’d 
better get out. He can pick you up with one hand and 
throw you a mile.’ 

“ ‘Dear, dear me!’ sighed the rabbitman. ‘I’m worse 
off than I was before. I’ve lost two dear kind friends. 
The only friends I ever had.’ 

“Just then who should come in but the fairy lady bunny. 

“ ‘What’s the matter?’ she asked. ‘Why, Mr. Rabbit- 
man, you seem more lonely than when a Ragged Rabbit 
Giant.’ 

“ ‘I am,’ he answered sadly. ‘My two little friends, 
the only two friends I’ve ever known, don’t rec-og-nize 
me. Please turn me back into a ragged rabbit. I’d rather 
be ragged and homely than lose these two little friends.’ 

“ ‘You shan’t lose them,’ she laughed. ‘Let me ex¬ 
plain,’ and turning to the wondering little fly and cricket, 
in a few minutes they couldn’t help but believe the lovely 
fairy rabbit bunny queen, and they saw again their Ragged 
Rabbit Giant master, clean-shaven, well clothed and 
handsome. Yes, he was the same, only different. 

“In a short time he repaired his big bungalow, weeded 
the garden and cut the grass. Soon all the bunny boys 
and rabbit girls stopped to see him on their way home 
from school. They called him ‘Uncle Raggedy,’ al- 


22 4 LITTLE JACK RABBIT’S BIG BLUE BOOK 

though he wasn’t ragged any more. But he didn’t mind, 
for his big heart was full of love for all little people. 

“Now, that’s all,” said the Big Brown Bear, with a 
yawn. 

“Thank you very much,” cried the little bunny, “I 



“Fighting it out between them.” 


must be going.” On the way Danny Fox and Mr. Wicked 
Wolf spied him. But while they were fighting it out be¬ 
tween them away he hopped back to the dear Old Bramble 
Patch. 






BUNNY TALE 24 


GRANDDADDY BULLFROG 

Granddaddy Bullfrog was a wise sort of a person. 
He rarely spoke, but when he did he always said some¬ 
thing worth while. 

“Good morning,” shouted Little Jack Rabbit one sun¬ 
shiny forenoon, stopping at the Old Duck Pond where 
the Old Gentleman Frog was sitting on a log. 

“It’s a good morning if you have helped your mother 
with her work,” answered Granddaddy Bullfrog. 

“I have,” replied the little bunny boy. “I’ve polished 
the front doorknob, fed the canary and filled the wood- 
box with kindling.” 

“You’re a good little bunny boy,” answered the wise 
old frog. “When I was a tadpole I worked hard for my 
mother, but it never hurt me. No, siree!” and Grand¬ 
daddy Bullfrog smoothed down the wrinkle in his white 
waistcoat and wiped his spectacles on a clean piece of 
meadow grass. 

“You said, ‘When you were a tadpole.’ Does that 
mean when you were a boy?” asked Little Jack Rabbit. 

“Yes, sir, that’s what it means,” replied the old gen¬ 
tleman frog, snapping up a fly that ventured too near the 
big log. 


225 


226 LITTLE JACK RABBIT’S BIG BLUE BOOK 

Just then Mrs. Oriole from her nest in the Weeping 
Willow Tree began to sing: 

“Up here in my stocking-like nest we swing, 

My little birdies and I. 

We are content ’neath our willow tent 
To sing as the day goes by.” 

“When will your little birds learn to fly?” asked the 
curious bunny boy rabbit. 

“As soon as their wings are strong and well feath¬ 
ered,” answered the pretty lady bird mother. “It won’t 
be long.” 

“Ker dunk, ker dunk!” croaked Granddaddy Bull¬ 
frog. 

“Don’t you like cabbage leaf cigars?” asked the little 
bunny boy, as the old gentleman frog wiped a tear from 
his left eye. 

“Not so bad,” he answered. “But I can’t catch flies 
and smoke at the same time!” 

Just then along came a buzzy bluebottle fly. Out 
dropped the cabbage leaf cigar as Granddaddy Bullfrog 
opened his mouth. Sputter, sputter! and the big cigar 
floated away, frightening Taddy Tadpole almost to death. 

“Don’t you ever start smoking,” advised the old gen¬ 
tleman frog. “Cabbage is good to eat, but it makes poor 
cigars.” 

“I never will,” answered the little bunny boy. 
“Mother doesn’t like it.” 


GRANDDADDY BULLFROG 


227 


Pretty soon Granddaddy Bullfrog closed his eyes. 
Thinking he was asleep, the bunny boy hopped away up 
the Old Cow Path, over the hill, till by and by, after a 
while, and a song and a smile, he came to the Big Red 
Barn, on the top of which stood the Weathercock on his 
gilded toe. 


“It’s going to rain, 

It’s going to rain. 

Billy Breeze is 
Singing a low refrain. 

The swallows are flying 
Swift and low. 

I must point to the East 
With my weather toe!” 

sang the Weathercock, whirling about to point at the big 
black clouds creeping over the bright blue sky. 

“Dear me!” thought the bunny boy, “I must borrow 
an umbrella. However, just then he spied a large toad¬ 
stool. 

“That will do!” he laughed, and holding it over his 
head, he quickly hopped away. 

“Cock-a-doodle do, 

The grass is wet with dew. 

But soon it will be dry again 
Unless the sunshine turns to rain,” 

sang Cocky Doodle, the happy little rooster. 


228 LITTLE JACK RABBIT’S BIG BLUE BOOK 

“I’m going for a swim,” quacked Ducky Waddles, 
and off he went through the gate and across the Sunny 
Meadow to the Old Duck Pond, where all day long the 
blue Darning Needles skimmed over the water. 

“Good morning,” quacked the wabbly little duck. 

“The same to you,” answered the old gentleman frog, 
“fine day if it doesn’t rain.” 

“I don’t care if it does,” answered Ducky Waddles, 
paddling off from the shore like a green-feathered ferry¬ 
boat. 


“I don’t mind the gentle rain, 

It helps the flowers and the grain, 

It makes the Bubbling Brook run free 
Across the meadow to the sea.” 

“Well, well, well,” cried Granddaddy Bullfrog. 
“What have we here? A duck poet?” 

But Ducky Waddles was out of hearing by this time. 
Well, I should say yes, twice over. He was standing on 
his head, trying to catch a little fish that shimmered in 
the water. 

“What did you say?” asked Mrs. Oriole from her 
stocking-like nest in the Weeping Willow Tree. 

“I just remarked that we had a poet in Ducky Wad¬ 
dles,” answered Granddaddy Bullfrog. “Did you hear 
him answer me in rime?” 

“No, I didn’t,” replied Mrs. Oriole. “I was busy with 
the children. But I heard you say something about a 


GRANDDADDY BULLFROG 


229 


duck poet. I should say he was an acrobat. Look at 
him now,” and Mrs. Oriole pointed to Ducky Waddles 
still standing on his head in the water. 

“Ha, ha!” laughed Granddaddy Bullfrog. “He’s 
fishing, that’s what he’s doing.” 

Pretty soon along came Teddy Turtle with his strong 
shell house on his back. He didn’t have to worry about 
hotels in the summer. No, indeed! He carried his little 
bungalow on his back and stopped wherever he wanted 
to. Yes, sir. He could go to Newport or Narragansett 
Pier for the summer if he wished, I dare say. But I’m not 
quite sure. 

“Is that Ducky Waddles out there in the pond?” asked 
the little turtle. 

“Yes, that’s who it is,” replied Granddaddy Bullfrog, 
“he’s catching fish and I’m catching flies and the sun is 
shining up in the skies.” 

“Dear me,” thought Teddy Turtle. “Granddaddy 
Bullfrog is talking poetry. I’d better be going,” and off 
he went. 

But, oh, dear me! Just as the little turtle crawled 
away from the Old Duck Pond all of*a sudden, just like 
that, a shadow came across the sun. Into the pond went 
Granddaddy Bullfrog and into his shell house went Teddy 
Turtle’s head and tail. 

“Oh, pshaw!” cried Hungry Hawk, for it was his 
shadow that had fallen on the meadow as he passed be¬ 
tween the sun and the slow crawling turtle. “I thought 
I had you this time.” 


230 LITTLE JACK RABBIT’S BIG BLUE BOOK 

“Did you?” asked Teddy Turtle from the inside of his 
shell. “Maybe you would if I hadn’t pulled in my head 
and tail.” 

“Now what am I going to do for dinner?” asked the 
old robber bird. 

“I don’t know and I don’t care,” replied Teddy Turtle. 
“Just fly away, will you?” 

“Maybe,” answered Hungry Hawk. 

“Where are you?” asked Teddy Turtle after a few 
moments, carefully pushing out his head, but only a little 
way, you know. But no one answered. So the little turtle 
pushed out his head a little more, trying his best to look 
three or four ways all at once. 

“Look out! Look out!” whispered Billy Breeze. 

“That’s what I’m doing,” answered the little turtle. 
“Only I’m afraid to look out too far.” 

“Be careful, be careful,” whispered Billy Breeze. 

“What did you say?” asked Teddy Turtle. “I can’t 
hear very well inside my shell house.” 

“Be careful, be careful!” whispered Billy Breeze. 

But, dear me! Teddy Turtle was getting curious. 
Yes, sir, he was getting so curious that he just couldn’t 
keep his head indoors any longer. 

“Look out!” shouted Billy Breeze. But, oh, dear me! 
It was too late. Robber Hawk had already grabbed the 
little turtle’s head. 

“Let me go! Let me go!” begged the frightened little 
turtle. 

“No, sir!” answered the cruel hawk. “I’m going to 







































GRANDDADDY BULLFROG 


231 


take you home to my wife,” and up he flew in the air. 
But, goodness me! He soon found out what a heavy thing 
a turtle is. Pretty soon the old hawk’s wings grew tired. 
Oh, very weary, indeed. 

“I must rest,” he said to himself, turning toward an 
old dead tree near the edge of the Shady Forest. 

“Let me go! Let me go!” again and again begged 
Teddy Turtle. 

“Be still, will you?” answered the old robber bird, do¬ 
ing his best to keep his balance on the limb of the dead 
tree and at the same time hold on to the wiggly jiggly 
little turtle. 

“No, I won’t,” answered Teddy Turtle, with another 
wiggle and a jiggle, and maybe a wiggle-jiggle-jiggle 
after that. 

But, try as he might, he couldn’t wiggle loose from 
the bad hawk’s claws. Pretty soon the old bird flew off 
again with the little turtle. 

“Wiggle, jiggle all you can. 

Wiggle like a wrestling man. 

Keep on wiggling till you’re free, 

Wiggle like a jumping flea,” 

shouted Billy Breeze. 

“Stop talking to Teddy Turtle,” screamed Hungry 
Hawk, by this time out of breath and nearly ready to drop. 

“Wiggle, wiggle, wiggle!” again shouted Billy 
Breeze. 


232 LITTLE JACK RABBIT’S BIG BLUE BOOK 

Then Teddy Turtle wiggled and jiggled and jiggled 
and wiggled until all of a sudden, just like that, Hungry 
Hawk couldn’t hold him a minute longer. Down dropped 
the little turtle right into the Bubbling Brook and off went 
Hungry Hawk to rest his weary wings in a near-by tree. 

“Look out for him when he’s rested,” whispered Billy 
Breeze. 

“I’ll swim away,” answered Teddy Turtle, and down 
the stream he went as fast as he could go. Pretty soon he 
came to a nice deep place under a shelving bank. Here 
he hid for a long time. And maybe he would be hiding 
there yet if Billy Breeze hadn’t been on the lookout. 

“The old hawk has flown away,” he whispered, danc¬ 
ing over the tall water grass that stood barefoot in the cool 
water. 

“Are you sure?” asked the little turtle, anxiously. “I 
don’t want to be caught again. Dear me, but my neck is 
scratched. Hungry Hawk has sharp claws.” 

“Oh, yes, he’s gone. He’s flown away. Maybe he’s 
home by this time,” answered Billy Breeze. 

Teddy Turtle waited a few minutes longer, then swam 
boldly down the Bubbling Brook towards the Shady 
Forest. “Dear me, it’s a long way to Busy Beaver’s home, 
but I’ll be safe there, I know.” 


BUNNY TALE 25 


LUCKYMOBILING 

Heigh ho, how the winds blow 
This cool November day. 

The leaves are turning yellow and red 
And the clouds are scurrying overhead 

Like little ships out on the bay. 

“That’s a beautiful poem,” thought Uncle Lucky, 
looking up from his morning paper as Reddy Comb, the 
rooster newsboy, strutted away. 

Just then Little Jack Rabbit came hopping up the 
path. 

“Let’s make a call on somebody,” suddenly suggested 
the old gentleman bunny. 

“All right, but not on Grandmother Magpie,” an¬ 
swered the bunny boy, climbing into the Luckymobile. 

“No, indeed,” replied kind Uncle Lucky. “She’s too 
meddlesome.” 

Quickly turning down a road leading away from the 
Shady Forest, in which the old lady magpie had her home, 
they soon came to a little log hut in a cornfield. 

“I wonder who lives there,” exclaimed the old gentle¬ 
man rabbit. “I never saw that little house before,” and 
stopping the Luckymobile, he hopped over to the little 
233 


234 LITTLE JACK RABBIT’S BIG BLUE BOOK 

log hut to knock on the door. The next moment it was 
opened by their friend, the Scarecrow. 

“Well, well, well,” he cried. “I’m glad to see you. 
Come in and sit down.” 



“I’ll be back in a minute,” shouted Uncle Lucky to 
his bunny nephew. 

But imagine the old gentleman rabbit’s surprise to find 
Turkey Tim in the little log hut. 

“What, you here!” exclaimed Uncle Lucky. All of a 
sudden poor Turkey Tim began to cry. 












LUCKYMOBILING 


235 


“He’s afraid of Thanksgiving,” explained the Scare¬ 
crow. “But I’ll hide him here till Spring.” 

“Dear, oh, dear!” gasped astonished Uncle Lucky. 
“I’m glad you’re so kind. Dearest me, I’m flustered! I 
didn’t know you lived here.” 

“To be sure I do now that summer time is over,” an¬ 
swered the Scarecrow. “You don’t think I’d stay out in 
the cornfield all winter?” 

“Yes, what would be the use?” agreed Uncle Lucky. 
“Besides, you might catch your death of cold.” 

“That’s just it,” answered the Scarecrow. 

“My clothes are very old and worn 
And one of the pockets badly torn. 

The wind would blow through a hole in my coat 
And give me a terrible frog in my throat.” 

“Come with us,” invited Uncle Lucky. “It’s a beau¬ 
tiful day for a ride. Don’t you think so?” 

With a happy smile, the Scarecrow took down his old 
hat from the wooden peg behind the door and, pinning 
his coat around him, for the buttons were all gone, you 
know, told Turkey Tim he’d be back shortly. 

As soon as dear Uncle Lucky had honked the horn 
three times and a half, away they went down to the Three- 
in-One Cent Store to buy a toothbrush. You see, the 
Scarecrow had forgotten all about it when moving into 
the little log hut in the middle of the cornfield. 

“And now where shall we go?” asked Uncle Lucky, 


236 LITTLE JACK RABBIT’S BIG BLUE BOOK 

as the Scarecrow once more seated himself in the Lucky- 
mobile, for it hadn’t taken him nearly as long to buy the 
toothbrush as it had his last Liberty Bond! 

“Let’s call on the Tailor Bird. We ought to get 
measured for our winter overcoats.” So they turned 
down a road leading to Birdville, a pretty little town not 
far away. Well, by and by, after a mile and a laugh and 
a smile, they came to the Tailor Bird’s Shop on the cor¬ 
ner of Twitter Avenue and Chirp Street. There on a 
little bench in front of the store, sat the Tailor Bird him¬ 
self, although it was the first of November. 

No sooner did this in-dus-tri-ous bird see the two little 
rabbits in the Luckymobile than he began to sing: 

“Stitch, stitch, stitch away, 

I’m busy sewing all the day 
I hardly have a chance to sing. 

My needle uses up the string 
So fast I haven’t time to play. 

Why, I can’t even stop to say, 

‘Good Morning, it’s a pleasant day!’” 

And the Tailor Bird made his needle go so fast that 
Uncle Lucky couldn’t tell on whose overcoat the old bird 
was sewing buttons. 

“I guess I’ll get along with my old one,” said the old 
gentleman rabbit, and, waving good-by to the Tailor Bird, 
he soon reached Cottontail Square, where they found a 
big crowd gathered around the statues of Uncle Sam and 
Aunt Columbia. 


LUCKYMOBILING 


2 37 


“What’s all this about?” asked the old gentleman, 
curiously. 

“I’ll enquire,” answered the Scarecrow, standing up 
on the rear seat. Just then a bunny man, carrying in his 
arms a little boy rabbit, pushed his way out. 

“Dear, dear! is he hurt?” anxiously asked dear, kind 
Uncle Lucky. 

“No, no!” shouted back the bunny man. “It’s Tinkle 
Timmy, the fairy bunny child. He’s only frightened. 
I’m taking him back to the Fairy Glen.” 

“You have a kind heart,” said Uncle Lucky. “Come 
around to the bank to-morrow. Maybe we need a porter.” 

Then away drove the old gentleman bunny. Pretty 
soon they came to the Farmyard. 

“Bow, wow!” barked Old Sic’em, the farmer’s dog. 

“Come here, I want to whisper in your ear,” said the 
old gentleman rabbit, leaning out of the Luckymobile. 

“Look out for Danny Fox to-night, 

He’s coming here when the moon is bright 
To steal a chicken for a stew, 

So catch him by his curlicue,” 

he whispered to the old watch-dog as he stood on his tip 
toes. 

“Where is his curlicue?” asked Old Sic’em. 

“Oh, I mean his bushy tail,” laughed Uncle Lucky, 
“but as tail doesn’t always rime in poetry I said “cue” 
instead. 


238 LITTLE JACK RABBIT’S BIG BLUE BOOK 

“All right,” answered Old Sic’em. “I’ll be on the 
lookout,” and with a wag of his curlicue,—beg pardon, 
I mean his long thin tail, he said good-by. Then away 
went the Luckymobile so fast that it nearly ran over a 
man who mended old tin pails, wash boilers and maybe 
other things. 

“Helloa, there 1” shouted Uncle Lucky, “can you mend 
a hole in my woolen sock?” 

“Don’t you poke fun at me,” answered the tin man 
with a dreadful angry look, “rabbits don’t wear stock¬ 
ings!” But when Uncle Lucky handed him a ten car¬ 
rot gold piece the tin man began to smile. 

Pretty soon the old gentleman bunny spied a great 
tremendous pumpkin in a corn field. 

“Whoa!” exclaimed Uncle Lucky to the Luckymo¬ 
bile, which stopped just like that, only maybe a little 
quicker. “Let’s take the pumpkin home with us.” But, 
dear me! how disappointed he was after hopping over the 
fence. The pumpkin was so heavy that dear Uncle Lucky 
couldn’t lift it to save his whiskers. Neither could Little 
Jack Rabbit. 

“What shall we do?” asked the little bunny. 

All of a sudden the Old Scarecrow, who had been 
sound asleep all this time, woke up. 

“Let me help you,” he said and, jumping out, lifted 
the pumpkin up in his arms into the Luckymobile with¬ 
out even scratching the shell. 

As soon as the Scarecrow was seated, away they went 
and pretty soon, not so very far, nor so very long, they 


LUCKYMOBILING 


239 


came to a cross road. Right there stood a big sign post 
on which was written: 

“To Rabbitville, 1 mile 
To Lettuce Hills, 2 miles 
To Turnip City, 3 miles.” 

“Gracious me!” cried Little Jack Rabbit. “I don’t 
know where I’d rather go.” 

“I’ll tell you,” said Professor Crow, just then flying by 
with his little Wisdom Book in his left claw. 

“Now listen to me 
For a minute or three,” 

and turning to page one, oh, oh! he read aloud: 

“Never hurry, never worry, 

Never rush and never scurry. 

Start in time and you’ll get there; 

So the tortoise beat the hare.” 

“Where did you get your wonderful little Wisdom 
Book?” asked Uncle Lucky, taking off his goggles and 
scratching his left ear with his right hind foot. 

“That’s my secret,” answered the old black bird, with 
a smile, winking his little black eyes and curling his 
feathers with his beak. 

“I wish I had a Wisdom Book,” went on the old gen¬ 
tleman rabbit. “It’s full of good things.” 


240 LITTLE JACK RABBIT’S BIG BLUE BOOK 

“I’ll tell you something since you’re so fond of my 
little book. I’ve written in it all the good things I’ve 
heard. You see, when I first bought it at the Three-in- 
One Cent Store, it was only full of white pages, but now 



it’s full of wise things,” answered the old crow, glancing 
up over his spectacles. All of a sudden he took out his 
fountain pen and shouted: “Listen! I’ve just thought of 
something: 


Frogs from little Tadpoles grow!” 









LUCKYMOBILING 


241 : 

Then with a bang he closed his book and, snapping his 
bill, flapped his wings and flew away, but where he went 
I cannot say. 

“Why didn’t we ask him which road to take?” sighed 
the Scarecrow, looking up at the sign-post. “I don’t know 
anybody in Lettuce Hill and what’s the use of going to 
Rabbitville when you two little rabbits are here and not 
there. I’m sure I don’t want to go to Turnip City. My 
wife’s mother now lives there and for me she doesn’t care.” 

“All right,” laughed kind Uncle Lucky, “let’s go 
home—the best place of all,” and turning the Luckymo- 
bile to the right, after a while, and more than a mile, and 
maybe a smile, they met a funny Little Donkey with two 
baskets over his back, one on each side. 

“The Rooster sings his cock-ado, 

The Old Cow sometimes gives a moo, 

The Big Brown Horse will answer neigh, 

But what does the Little Donkey say 
When he puts back his ears and gives a bray?” 

“What does he say?” asked Uncle Lucky, making the 
Luckymobile trot by the side of the Little Donkey as 
nicely as you please. 

“He says: ‘Look out for my heels!’ ” laughed the lit¬ 
tle long-eared animal, throwing out his hind legs to show 
how high he could kick. But, oh, dear me! He should 
have known better, for out rolled the carrots all over the 
road. 


242 LITTLE JACK RABBIT’S BIG BLUE BOOK 

Out hopped dear Uncle Lucky, kind Little Jack 
Rabbit and the nice old Scarecrow to help him pick them 
up. As soon as the baskets were filled and fastened on 
straight, for they were all wiggly waggly, you know, the 
Little Donkey said: 

“Next time I’ll think before I kick 
And look before I leap, 

And lock the stable door before 
I lay me down to sleep.” 

“Come in with us,” said kind Uncle Lucky. “We’re 
going your way.” 

Carefully climbing in, the Little Donkey set down the 
baskets of carrots. Pretty soon on reaching a little green 
barn he shouted: 

“I live right here. Come, stay awhile. Although I 
live in a barn I have nice things. Besides, I own three 
Liberty Bonds and a cigar coupon. Oh, yes, I’m a pa¬ 
triotic donkey. My two brothers went to France with 
the U. S. Army,” and, pointing to a small iron safe in one 
corner, he added in a whisper, “That’s where I keep my 
money.” 

“You can’t beat me,” said the Scarecrow. And would 
you believe it? He put his hand in his inside coat pocket 
and drew out three Liberty Bonds! Yes, sir, he did! 
“And I’m not going to sell them, either,” he added, pin¬ 
ning his overcoat carefully over his waistcoat. 

“If you’ll wait a minute while I put the carrots in the 


LUCKYMOBILING 


243 


pantry,” said the Little Donkey, “I’ll come back and make 
you some nice candy.” 

At once the little rabbits and the Scarecrow sat down 
and waited until the Little Donkey returned with some 
maple sugar, a lemon lollypop and a chocolate caramel. 
Filling a saucepan with water, he soon had a wonderful 
candy boiling on the stove. After it was all done he put 
it down the well to cool, and when it was hard and nice 
he gave a piece to the little rabbits and another piece to 
the Scarecrow, who said it was much finer than any he 
had ever tasted from the Three-in-One Cent Store. 

By and by Uncle Lucky, looking at his watch, said 
it was time to leave and, thanking the Little Donkey for 
a pleasant time, the old gentleman rabbit hopped into the 
Luckymobile. 

“You can drop me off at the cornfield,” said the 
Scarecrow. “Turkey Tim must be lonesome by this 
time.” 

And shortly after the two little rabbits were safe at 
home for the night. 


BUNNY TALE 26 


THE RACE 

The Big Brown Bear, the Yellow Dog Tramp, and 
Sammy Skunk, Esq., of Sleepy Hollow, were playing 
pinochle in a little log cabin. 

Just then who should come along in the Luckymobile 
but Mr. Lucky Lefthindfoot, the dear old gentleman 
bunny rabbit. 

“Honk, honk!” went his horn and “Hello, hello!” 
he shouted, stopping all of a sudden, just like that, quick 
as a wink, right in front of the little log hut. “Who’ll 
be the next President?” and in he hopped to shake hands 
with his Shady Forest friends. 

“Hope you’ll be,” answered all three with a smile, for 
everybody likes Uncle Lucky. Oh, my, yes! 

“My, but you fellows look all mussed up,” exclaimed 
the old gentleman rabbit. 

“We couldn’t look spick and span after the fight we’ve 
just had with Mr. Wicked Wolf and Danny Fox,” replied 
the Yellow Dog Tramp. “Of course my clothes are not 
of the latest style nor just pressed. But to wrestle with 
Danny Fox would make a dress suit look like a pair of 
overalls,—and maybe worse.” 

“Come, jump into the Luckymobile,” said the old 

244 


THE RACE 


245 

gentleman bunny, with a kind smile. “I’ll take you all 
for a ride.” 

In climbed the Big Brown Bear and the Yellow Dog 
Tramp, but Sammy Skunk suddenly remembered he had 
an errand to do. 

“I can’t go,” he apologized. “I must get a spool of 
cotton for Mrs. Skunk at the Three-in-One Cent Store.” 

“Maybe I can drop you there,” suggested kind Uncle 
Lucky. But Sammy Skunk wouldn’t hear of it. 

“No, no! Some other time,” he shouted, as he hurried 
off in the opposite direction. 

“Well, where shall we go?” asked considerate Uncle 
Lucky, honking the horn before he put on his goggles. 
Then fastening his blue silk polkadot handkerchief over 
his old wedding stovepipe hat and under his chin and 
winding his gold watch and chain, he started up the 
Luckymobile, his two friends on the back seat smiling 
away as if they were going to the circus or a baseball game 
at Carrot City. 

After a while and a bump and a smile and maybe a 
laugh or three, there came into view a big kangaroo and 
a fat old bumblebee. 

Dear, dear! Why didn’t my typewriter put this pretty 
rhyme into verse. I guess it forgot I’m a poet! 

“Stop, stop!” shouted the Kangaroo. “If you don’t 
I’ll give a hop and a jump and perhaps a skip or two and 
land myself right in the Luckymobile. I can jump much 
farther than you.” 

“Yes, you have long hind legs,” smiled Uncle Lucky, 


246 LITTLE JACK RABBIT’S BIG BLUE BOOK 

re-flec-tive-ly, which means thinking hard while you 
speak. “You’re the largest hopper I’ve ever seen.” 

“You’re a pretty good jumper yourself,” answered 
the Kangaroo, grinning at nice Uncle Lucky. “Let’s 
have a race. I’ll give you a handicap.” 

“I don’t need one—I’ve my dear old wedding stovepipe 
hat,” answered the old gentleman rabbit, hopping out of 
the Luckymobile. 

“Who’ll be the judge?” asked the Big Brown Bear. 

“Not me,” said the Yellow Dog Tramp, although he 
should have said, “Not I.” But school is over and the 
teacher is away, so we’ll let it go this once. 

“I’ll be the judge,” said the Old Fat Bumble Bee. “I’ll 
be Timekeeper, too, for I have a little gold watch.” 

By this time the Kangaroo and dear Uncle Lucky were 
all ready for the race. The old gentleman bunny was 
twenty-two hops in front of the Kangaroo and the course 
was over to a big rock and back to the Luckymobile. 

“You start them off,” said the Old Fat Bumble Bee, to 
the Yellow Dog Tramp. 

“All right,” answered the obliging dog, commencing 
to count. 

“One, two, three,—go!” 

Away went dear Uncle Lucky across the meadow and 
after him the great long-legged Kangaroo. Just one of 
his jumps was equal to three and a half of the rabbit bunny 
man. 

“Hurry up! Uncle Lucky!” shouted the Big Brown 
Bear. 




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THE RACE 


247 


“Catch him!” cried the Old Bumble Bee, who was the 
Kangaroo’s friend, although I forgot to mention it sooner. 

“Go it!” shouted the Yellow Dog Tramp. “Go it, 
Uncle Lucky!” 

And then the old gentleman bunny went faster than 
ever. I guess it was all the blue silk polkadot handker¬ 
chief could do to keep his old wedding stovepipe hat from 
falling off! 

“Goodness me!” gasped Uncle Lucky, as he turned 
back from the big rock on his way home to the winning 
place, “that Kangaroo is gaining on me. I must hop a 
little faster and then some more.” 

“My, but that old gentleman rabbit is pretty good yet,” 
thought the Kangaroo, touching the big rock and starting 
back after the old gentleman bunny sprinter. 

“Come on! Come on! Uncle Lucky!” shouted the 
Big Brown Bear, jumping up and down on the front seat 
of the Luckymobile. 

“Hurry up, hurry up!” barked the Yellow Dog 
Tramp. “Hurry up, Uncle Lucky!” 

“Catch him!” cried the Old Bumble Bee to the long 
legged Kangaroo. 

“Dearest me!” gasped poor Uncle Lucky, “I’m most 
in!” 

Just then, and it was mighty lucky, too, as you’ll soon 
see, the blue silk polkadot handkerchief slipped off his old 
wedding stovepipe, and before the old gentleman bunny 
could save it that precious hat had fallen to the ground. 

“Don’t stop!” shouted the Big Brown Bear. And 


24S LITTLE JACK RABBIT’S BIG BLUE BOOK 

Uncle Lucky didn’t. Neither did the long legged Kan¬ 
garoo. He tried hard not to step into the stovepipe hat, 
but in slipped his right foot and over he went, tripperty 
trip, flat on the meadow grass, and the next minute the old 
gentleman bunny had touched the Luckymobile and won 
the race. 

“Hip, hurrah!” barked the Yellow Dog Tramp. 

“Three cheers!” shouted the Big Brown Bear, but 
Uncle Lucky didn’t say anything. He didn’t care nearly 
so much about winning as he did to find out whether his 
dear old wedding stovepipe hat were injured. Hopping 
quickly back to the Kangaroo, who was just struggling to 
his feet, the old gentleman rabbit exclaimed: 

“Oh, please be careful of my hat 
And gently pull it off. 

Just hold your breath and close your eyes 
And don’t you dare to cough.” 

“Don’t worry,” answered the Kangaroo, hopping 
about on one foot while he tugged at the old stovepipe hat. 
“I’ll not cough, but I may do something else,” and he be¬ 
gan to look dreadfully cross. “This hat is so tight it makes 
my pinky ache.” 

“Sit down, sit down!” advised Uncle Lucky. “The 
first thing you know you’ll lose your balance and that will 
be the end of my dear old wedding stovepipe hat. Oh, 
please sit down.” 

But, oh, dear me! The Kangaroo suddenly stubbed 


THE RACE 


249 

his toe on a buttercup, and down he went, head over heels, 
on the meadow. 

“Oh, dear, oh, dear, what shall I do 
If my dear old hat is broken! 

Since ’63 it’s been to me 
A loving memory token,” 

cried the old gentleman rabbit, hopping over to the spraw¬ 
ling Kangaroo. 

“There, take your old hat,” he grumbled, pulling out 
his foot with a desperate tug, “I lost the race on account 
of it and my temper, too. Take it away before I lose my 
money.” 

The old gentleman bunny lost no time in placing it on 
his head and with a thank you and hope I meet you soon 
again, he hopped into his Luckymobile and drove away 
with his two good friends, the Big Brown Bear and the 
Yellow Dog Tramp. 


BUNNY TALE 27 


THE OLD BROWN HORSE 

One morning, oh, so early, 

When the dew shone on the grass 
And the Mill Pond lay so quiet 
It seemed a looking glass, 

Little Jack Rabbit hopped up the Winding Trail in the 
Shady Forest to the Forest Pool, in which Busy Beaver 
had a nice bungalow. 

Of course this little hairy swimmer was at home. Yes, 
indeed. There he sat on the bank, looking here and look¬ 
ing there, just as if he hadn’t a single care. 

“Hello!” shouted the little bunny boy rabbit. 

“Well, I’m glad to see you,” answered Busy Beaver. 
“It’s a long time since you’ve made a call.” 

“So it is,” replied the little rabbit, “but you’re not the 
only busy person in the world.” 

“I’m not busy just now. You see, I work on my new 
building at night,” and Busy Beaver flapped the water 
with his long flat tail. 

“Where are the other members of the family?” asked 
the polite little rabbit. You see, not having made a call 
for so long a time he had forgotten all their names. 

“Oh, they’re cutting down some small trees,” replied 

250 


THE OLD BROWN HORSE 


251 


Busy Beaver. “As we live on land and in the water, we 
must have two houses. Then, too, as the children grow 
up we need more, which keeps us busy all the time.” 

“Well, remember me to everybody,” said the little 
bunny boy rabbit, and away he hopped, lipperty lip, clip- 
perty clip until all of a sudden, just like that, whom should 
he see but the Farmer’s Boy with a gun over his shoulder. 

“Dear, dear!” thought the little rabbit. “Is he going 
to shoot Busy Beaver, I wonder. His nice fur coat would 
make a warm pair of gloves for the cold weather. I guess 
I’ll warn Busy Beaver.” 

So back hopped this kind-hearted little bunny, clip- 
perty clip, lipperty lip, looking over his shoulder now 
and then and sometimes oftener to see if the Farmer’s 
Boy was following him. 

“What are you back for?” asked Busy Beaver, as all 
out of breath Little Jack Rabbit stopped again at the 
Shady Forest Pool. 

“S-s-sh!” whispered the little bunny. “The Farmer’s 
Boy is out with his gun. I just saw him up the Shady 
Forest Trail. That’s why I hopped back.” 

“Very kind of you,” answered the little beaver. 
“Guess I’ll take to the water. I’ve got a nice hiding place 
not far from here. Good-by,” and away he swam in his 
nice chestnut brown fur coat, leaving the boy bunny rab¬ 
bit all alone. Dear me! I hope the Farmer’s Boy doesn’t 
shoot him before I get him safely away, too. 

“What was that?” thought the Farmer’s Boy as Little 
Jack Rabbit hopped into a hollow stump near by. “What 


252 LITTLE JACK RABBIT’S BIG BLUE BOOK 

was that?” repeated the curious boy, tiptoeing over to the 
Shady Forest Pool. I guess he had heard the slap of the 
little beaver’s long flat tail as he dived down under the 
water to reach his front door. 

Pretty soon the Farmer’s Boy turned away and walked 
up to the hollow stump. He was just going to thrust in 
his arm when he heard a great splashing in the Shady 
Forest Pool. My goodness, how Busy Beaver was flap¬ 
ping the water with his big flat tail, sending the spray 
flying in all directions. 

At once the Farmer’s Boy forgot all about the hollow 
stump. Lifting his gun to his shoulder, he took careful 
aim, but before he could pull the trigger a big drop of 
water spattered in his eye and he dropped the gun to take 
out his pocket handkerchief. Wait a minute, please, I’ve 
made a mistake. I meant to say he dropped his gun to 
brush the water from his eye with his coat sleeve. 

“Now’s your chance!” shouted Busy Beaver. 

Of course the Farmer’s Boy didn’t understand this 
warning, but the little rabbit did. Peeking out of the 
hollow stump for just a minute, he went hipperty hop, 
clipperty clip, lipperty lip down the Shady Forest Trail, 
past the wooded hillside where beneath a pile of rocks 
Danny Fox had his den. 

“Now’s my chance,” thought Danny Fox, and out he 
jumped from his rocky bungalow. 

“Dear, oh, dear me! Now what shall I do? I’m a 
goner, I know it!” cried the poor little bunny boy rabbit. 
“Yes, I’m a goner as sure as sunshine follows rain.” 


THE OLD BROWN HORSE 


253 


“Stop whispering to yourself!” snarled the wicked fox. 
“I’ve a good mind to eat you right now before the Police¬ 
man Dog happens by with his big hickory stick.” 



“Please do—I mean, please don’t! Oh, dear, oh, dear, 
I don’t know what I mean!” cried the poor frightened 
little bunny, his pink nose twinkling like a star on a frosty 
night, 


















254 LITTLE JACK RABBIT’S BIG BLUE BOOK 

“Gr-r-r!” snarled the old fox, creeping closer and 
closer till his hot breath burned the shivering little rab¬ 
bit’s whiskers. “I’m going to eat you now. Make no 
mistake about it. You have given me the slip once too 
often.” 

“No, you’re not!” shouted a friendly voice and from 
behind a clump of trees out ran the Old Brown Horse. 
Turning quickly around, he let fly with his two hind feet, 
sending Danny Fox through the air like a hairy four- 
footed two-eared football. 

“Never come back!” cried the Old Brown Horse, lean¬ 
ing over to see if the little rabbit was all right. Of course 
he was, but all a-tremble. 

“Thank you,” he cried. “Won’t you come home with 
me? You can sleep in our Little Red Barn.” 

“All right,” answered the Big Brown Horse, trotting 
after the little bunny rabbit boy. 

“Perhaps if you hop on my back you’ll be home in the 
Old Bramble Patch in two shakes of a lamb’s tail,” said 
the Old Brown Horse, noticing how trembly the little 
rabbit was. 

So up hopped the little bunny boy and away they went, 
trottery trot, bumperty, bump! By and by, after a while, 
and a laugh and a smile, they came to a big wide river. 

“I’m not a very good swimmer,” apologized the kind 
four-footed animal, “but maybe I can manage to get 
across.” 

“Don’t take too many chances,” advised the little 
bunny boy rabbit. 


THE OLD BROWN HORSE 


255 

But the Old Brown Horse kept right on wading into 
the water and pretty soon it was up to his shoulder. All 
of a sudden his feet couldn’t touch bottom. Only a little 
bit of the top of his back was above water and Little Jack 
Rabbit had to pull up his feet and hug tight to the Old 
Brown Horse—hold tight to his mane, you know, so he 
wouldn’t slip off. 

They were now out in the middle of the river where 
the water ran fast and furious. Dear me! It was now 
hard work to swim and the Old Brown Horse began to 
puff and pant as down the river they drifted with the fast 
flowing current. 

“I guess I’m all in,” panted the poor tired steed. “I 
never was a fine swimmer. The race track was the place 
where I could show my heels to the best of them!” 

“What are we going to do?” asked the anxious little 
bunny boy, as they drifted farther and farther away. The 
trees on the shore nodded and seemed to beckon them to 
swim to land. The white fleecy clouds up in the sky took 
the shape of fingers pointing to the shore. The poor Old 
Brown Horse was all tired out and his long thin legs made 
poor paddle wheels. If only his feet had been flat like 
Ducky Waddles it would have been an easy matter to have 
made the shore and landed his little bunny rider safely on 
the grass. 

By and by Mr. Merry Sun drew close to the tip of 
the Western Hills. The sky became all pinky-purple and 
golden-blue. Billy Breeze began to whisper sleepy music 
in the tree-tops and the birds to fly home to their leafy 


256 LITTLE JACK RABBIT’S BIG BLUE BOOK 

nests. I guess Mrs. Cow was ringing the little bell on 
her leather collar to call her long-legged calf. It was past 
supper time and the Twinkle Twinkle Star would be shin¬ 
ing from the sky. 

“What shall we do?” asked the little anxious bunny. 

“I don’t know,” sadly replied the poor steed. “My feet 
are dreadfully stiff and cold. I can hardly swish my tail 
it’s so wet and heavy.” 

Just then a voice came across the darkening waters: 
“I’ll help you!” 

“Do it quick!” gasped the Old Brown Horse, still 
bravely struggling in the swift current. “I’m all in!” 

“Oh, please come at once with a boat or a life pre¬ 
server!” shouted Little Jack Rabbit. “My dear Old 
Brown Horse is nearly drowned.” 

The next moment around a bend in the river came 
the Billy Goat with his Ferryboat. You remember the 
Ferryboat, don’t you? The old rowboat with a bicycle in 
the middle and paddle wheels on the side to push it ahead 
or backward or any way which Captain Billygoat wished 
to go. 

“Oh, hurry, hurry!” shouted the poor frightened little 
bunny boy, as the Old Brown Horse floundered about in 
the angry waters, his head at times almost disappearing 
and his poor hind legs refusing to make another stroke. 

“I’m coming. Keep up!” shouted back the kind Billy 
Goat, making his hind legs go so fast that the spray from 
the paddle wheels almost hid him from view. At last, 


THE OLD BROWN HORSE 257 

however, and none too soon, he came alongside the poor 
tired horse. 

“Quick! Jump in!” shouted the Billy Goat, and in 
hopped the bunny rabbit boy. 



“Lay your head in the boat,” cried the Billy Goat to 
the Old Brown Horse. 

Dear me! The poor old fellow had scarcely enough 
strength to do even that. At length, however, he began 






258 LITTLE JACK RABBIT’S BIG BLUE BOOK 

to breathe easier, for all he had to do was just be towed 
along. 

“You saved me from a watery grave, kind Billy Goat 
Ferry Man. Some day I’ll do you a friendly deed,” said 
the grateful horse when the Ferryboat reached the shore. 

“Oh, don’t mention it,” replied the Billy Goat. “I’d 
do anything for you and Little Jack Rabbit. Give my 
regards to the folks at home!” and away paddled the good 
lifesaver in his paddle-wheel rowboat to the wharf where 
the little rabbit boys and girls waited for him to take them 
to ice cream picnics or lollypop clambakes. 

“I’ll take you home now that I’m nicely rested,” said 
the Old Brown Horse. “I declare, I never thought this 
river had so swift a current.” 

“Oh, I was so frightened,” answered the little rabbit, 
climbing on his back. “I thought I’d never see the dear 
Old Bramble Patch again. I want to get home to mother.” 

“You’ll be there pretty soon,” replied the old horse, 
setting off at a brisk trot. 

As they neared the Old Bramble Patch they saw Lady 
Love standing at the gate, shading her eyes with her front 
paw. 


“Home again, my little bunny. 

Come and eat your bread and honey. 



You have been away all day, 

Now with mother you may stay,” 


sang the pretty canary. 


BUNNY TALE 28 


THE VISIT 

Oh, when you don’t know what to do 
Just take a book and read it through. 

Most often something there you’ll find 
To give you a contented mind. 

You see, we often grow tired of the same old thing. 
Our roller skates are put aside, our bat and ball don’t 
interest us; we don’t wish to even run about and look for 
a good time. And that’s just the way Little Jack Rabbit 
felt. So, what did he do? Well, he didn’t do anything 
till Lady Love, his patient bunny rabbit mother, suggested 
that he read a book. 

“What shall I read?” he asked, wiggling his little pink 
nose as much as to say, “I’d rather eat a lollypop.” But 
his mother didn’t notice his twinkling nose,—or, if she 
did, she merely overlooked it. 

“Yes, why don’t you read a book,” she repeated. 
“Books are like friends, sometimes they teach us things, 
sometimes they amuse us, and sometimes-” 

She had no need to finish her sentence, for the little 
rabbit boy had hopped over to the bookshelf. 

After looking over the row of pretty books he picked 
out one that was called: 


aso 



260 LITTLE JACK RABBIT’S BIG BLUE BOOK 

“Bunny Boy’s Cracker Animals.” 

“That sounds interesting,” said the little rabbit boy to 
himself, and, hopping into a chair, he began to read: 

“Once upon a time there lived a Bunny Boy Rabbit 
who had a little knapsack in which he kept animal crack¬ 
ers. Now this little bunny boy was so fond of his cracker 
animals that he never could bear to bite off a head or an 
ear, or a trunk or a tail. By and by his knapsack became 
so full that it could hold no more. And then something 
happened. As he hopped along one day he thought to 
himself, ‘What a racket those Animal Crackers are mak¬ 
ing in my knapsack. Maybe they are trying to get out.’ 

“Well, that’s just what they were doing. And all of a 
sudden, quicker than a wink, the knapsack burst open and 

“Away went the Elephant and the Gnu, 

The tall Giraffe and the Kangaroo, 

The tawny Tiger and Polar Bear, 

And the Buffalo Bull with his shaggy hair. 

“ ‘Come back, come back!’ shouted the bunny boy rab¬ 
bit. 

“ ‘No, siree!’ answered the Animal Crackers, ‘we’re go¬ 
ing back to our little Cracker Boxes!’ and away they 
went, leaving the Bunny Boy Rabbit to fill his knapsack 
with clover tops or lettuce leaves.” 


“Now what shall I do?” cried Little Jack Rabbit. 


THE VISIT 


261 


“Why not visit Uncle John Hare? I’ll pack your 
clothes in a jiffy,” suggested the little bunny’s mother, 
looking up from her ironing. 

Pretty soon along came the Old Dog Driver with his 
billy goat team. 

“I shall miss you,” said Lady Love, kissing her bunny 
boy, as he hopped into the carriage. 

“Goodness gracious meebus, if that isn’t my little 
bunny nephew!” shouted dear Uncle Lucky, as the car¬ 
riage stopped by Lily Pond Lake. 

“What are you doing here?” 

“I’m on my way to Uncle John Hare,” answered Little 
Jack Rabbit. “I’ve a package for him and my knapsack 
is packed full of clothes. Mother bought me a new tie.” 

“What, are you going to make a visit?” asked dear 
Uncle Lucky, anxiously. He never could keep away very 
long from his little rabbit nephew. Dear me, no! Uncle 
Lucky was so fond of Little Jack Rabbit that he wanted 
to be with him all the time, and even oftener. 

“Dear me,” went on poor Uncle Lucky, a lonely feel¬ 
ing spreading all over him from his toes to his head, “I’ll 
miss you dreadfully.” 

“That’s what mother said this morning when she kissed 
me good-by,” answered Little Jack Rabbit. 

“Don’t blame her,” said the old gentleman bunny. 

“She said something else, too,” added his little rabbit 
nephew. 

“What was it?” asked dear Uncle Lucky. 

“She told me to say every morning when I hopped out 


262 LITTLE JACK RABBIT’S BIG BLUE BOOK 

of bed, ‘Every day and in every way, I grow better and 
better.’ ” 

“Don’t forget to do what mother says,” advised Uncle 
Lucky. “Do what mother says and you’ll never be sorry.” 
“Can’t wait much longer,” shouted the Old Dog 



“Once upon a time,” she began. 


Driver, knocking the ashes from his pipe. Then, picking 
up the lines, he clicked git-ap to his billy goats and away 
rattled the carriage. 

“I wish Uncle Lucky were coming, too,” sighed Little 
Jack Rabbit, as they bumped along over the rough road. 
“What did you say, little bunny?” asked a motherly 




























THE VISIT 263 

looking lady goose, one of the passengers on her way to 
Goose Creek, Meadowland. 

Oh, I was just thinking aloud,” answered the little 
bunny boy rabbit. “But what’s the use of wishing? 
Wishes don’t come true.” 

Sometimes they do,” laughed the nice, kind lady 
goose, placing her soft feathered wing around him. “I 
once had an old grandmother goose who told me stories. 
I haven’t forgotten them. Oh, my, no! I told them to a 
man and he put them all in a book called “Grandmother 
Goosey’s Bedtime Rimes”! 

“Tell me one,” said Little Jack Rabbit, sleepily. 

“Once upon a time,” began the kind lady goose, but 
before she could say another word the bunny boy was 
sound asleep. 

By and by the Old Dog Driver shouted, “Turnip 
City! All out!” 

Sure enough, it was Turnip City! Just across Lettuce 
Square on the front porch of his pretty white house stood 
Uncle John Hare and behind him in the doorway, Mrs. 
Daisy Duck, his nice old housekeeper. 

“Good-by,” cried Little Jack Rabbit, taking off his 
cap to the Old Lady Goose. Then away he hopped across 
the square and up the walk that led from the little white 
gate to the front piazza of Uncle John’s neat little bun¬ 
galow. 

“Well, I’m glad to see you,” cried the nice old gentle¬ 
man bunny, patting his small nephew on the head. 

“And so am I,” quacked Mrs. Daisy Duck. “Now 


264 LITTLE JACK RABBIT’S BIG BLUE BOOK 

there’ll be somebody young and frisky in the house.” 

“What, am I growing so old?” asked Uncle John 
Hare, hopping about on the piazza with Little Jack Rab¬ 
bit. 



“I feel only twenty one 
Or maybe twenty two. 

I’m only just a kid at heart, 
The same as little you,” 

he sang, smiling at his small bunny nephew. 













































THE VISIT 


265 


“Quack, quack, quack! 

I’ve a little country shack, 

With cheese and crackers on the shelf 
To which I take my tired self,” 

sang Mrs. Daisy Duck. 

“It’s down by the Old Duck Pond,” whispered Uncle 
John Hare. “Mrs. Daisy Duck thinks I don’t know, but 
one day I hop-tiptoed after her. Don’t tell her, I think 
she has a nest in her little shack. Maybe someday there’ll 
be a brood of ducklings.” 

“What are you whispering about?” asked the old lady 
duck, with a quack and a flap of her wings. “Secrets?” 

“Maybe,” answered the old gentleman bunny. “Or, 
perhaps, advice. Give you three guesses.” 

“Haven’t time,” answered Mrs. Daisy Duck, bustling 
out to the kitchen to look at the lollypop stew and carrot 
cake. “I must think about supper.” 

“Come to your own little room,” said Uncle John 
Hare, leading the way up the winding stair. His little 
rabbit nephew followed, his knapsack swinging over his 
shoulder and his striped candy cane dangling from his 
elbow. 

“There,” exclaimed the dear old gentleman hare, 
throwing open the door, “nothing has been changed ex¬ 
cept the calendar. Every day I tore off the date, saying 
to myself, ‘Perhaps to-morrow he’ll come again to visit 
his old uncle.’ It came true this morning, so it did,” and 
with a happy sigh the loving old bunny hare sat down in 
the rocking chair. 


266 LITTLE JACK RABBIT’S BIG BLUE BOOK 

“Yes, your little room has been kept just the same for 
you,” he went on, “and you must make a long, long visit 
this time.” 

“Oh, I will,” answered Little Jack Rabbit, with a 
laugh. “Mother said I might stay as long as you wanted 
me.” 

“Well, that won’t be long enough,” answered Uncle 
John Hare. “Come, part your hair down the middle of 
your back and wash your paws for supper. I smell the 
lollypop stew.” 

It took little Jack Rabbit less than two and a half min¬ 
utes to make himself spick and span. Then with a hop, 
skip and a jump he followed his nice old Uncle to the din¬ 
ing room where Mrs. Daisy Duck had a lovely supper 
waiting for them. 

Perhaps you’d like to hear what was on the table. Lots 
of little boys and girls don’t know what rabbits eat, I im¬ 
agine. Well, there was carrot cake and lettuce marma¬ 
lade, carrot jelly and turnip tea, lollypop stew and cab¬ 
bage custard. A mighty nice sort of a supper for any¬ 
body, seems to me. 

Just as they were finishing the cabbage custard there 
came a loud knocking at the front door. 

“Who can it be?” asked Uncle John Hare. 

“I’ll soon find out,” answered Mrs. Daisy Duck, wad¬ 
dling out of the room with her napkin under her left wing. 

“Is Mr. John Hare at home?” inquired a loud voice. 

“Yes, I’m here,” answered the old gentleman bunny, 
hopping out into the hall. But when he saw who was call- 


THE VISIT 


267 

ing he wished he had hidden in the cellar. There stood 
the Ragged Rabbit Giant. You could see only the tops 
of his boots, for they were as high as the front door. Why, 
his waistcoat was even with the roof of the little white 
house and his gold chain tinkled against the red brick 
chimney every time he leaned down to speak to Mrs. Daisy 
Duck. 

“What can I do for you?” asked Uncle John Hare, as 
soon as he had caught his breath. “I’d invite you into sup¬ 
per, only you couldn’t accept. Maybe you’d like me to 
hand you out a cabbage cup custard. Mrs. Daisy Duck 
is quite famous for her cabbage cup custards.” 

“No, I don’t want any custard,” answered the Ragged 
Rabbit Giant. “I don’t like sweet things. Have you a 
cabbage leaf cigar?” 

“Wait a minute. I think I have,” answered the old 
gentleman hare in a trembly voice, hopping back into the 
sitting room. 

Pretty soon the giant grew restless. He shuffled his 
big feet, looked at his watch and then all of a sudden 
shouted, “Hurry up with that cabbage leaf cigar. I could 
have walked to Cuba in my seven league boots by this time 
for a good Smokerino.” 

Dear, dear me! I’ve been dreadfully worried while 
dear Uncle John Hare has been hunting for a cabbage 
leaf cigar for fear he wouldn’t be able to find it. I don’t 
know what I’d do if a Ragged Rabbit Giant was waiting 
outside my little white house on the corner of Lettuce 
Square and Turnip Street, Turnip City. 


268 LITTLE JACK RABBIT’S BIG BLUE BOOK 

“I’ve found it,” answered poor Uncle John Hare, hop¬ 
ping out with Little Jack Rabbit to the front porch. 

“Bless my stars!” exclaimed the giant, looking at the 
little bunny boy as he lighted the cigar, “if this isn’t Lady 
Love’s little rabbit. Howdy, young bunny. I must be 
going home. Good-by. Come to see me soon,” and away 
stalked the big rabbitman in his seven league boots to 
his castle on Tip Top, Sky-high Mountain, under the stars, 
for it would be night-time when he arrived home, although 
he could cover almost a mile every time he took a stride, 
and when he jumped,—dear me, I can’t figure how much 
space he covered,—maybe three times a mile. 

“Well, I’m glad he’s gone,” said Mrs. Daisy Duck 
from her hiding place. “I declare, my heart beat so loudly 
I mistook it for the Old Grandfather Clock. Dear, dearie 
me! I don’t like such great big bunny men. Little ones 
are nicer,” and hugging Little Jack Rabbit, she gave him 
a cough drop from a little box she carried in her calico 
apron pocket. 

By and by, after Uncle John Hare had finished smok¬ 
ing his cabbage leaf cigar, he said to his small nephew: 

“Let’s have a game of pinochle.” 

But, goodness me! The little rabbit was so drowsy 
that he could hardly keep his eyes open and pretty soon 
he let all the cards drop to the floor. 

“Hoity toity!” exclaimed Uncle John Hare, looking 
up. But when he saw that the Sand Man had filled his 
nephew’s eyes with Dream Dust he covered up the little 
bunny boy and let him sleep where he was until morning. 


BUNNY TALE 29 

THE MESSENGER 

Wake up, wake up! It’s morning now, 

The Farmer is milking the little black cow, 

The Rooster is blowing his shiny tin horn 
And Billy Breeze’s whistling a tune in the corn. 

Goodness me! Up jumped Little Jack Rabbit. You 
remember that the tired little bunny boy had been too 
sleepy to hop upstairs after playing a game of pinochle 
with Uncle John Hare, and had fallen asleep in a big 
arm chair for the night. That’s where we left him, and 
now we find him wide awake. 

“Hurry up, the buckwheat cake 
Is sizzling hot upon your plate. 

If you don’t hurry Mrs. Mouse 
May take it to her tiny house,” 

quacked Mrs. Daisy Duck, the old gentleman hare’s 
housekeeper. 

“I’ll hurry,” answered the little rabbit boy, and in less 
than a jiffy he had combed his hair down the middle of his 
back, washed his paws and repeated the little verse that 
Lady Love, his pretty bunny mother, had taught him: 

“Every day in every way, I grow better and better.” 

269 


270 LITTLE JACK RABBIT’S BIG BLUE BOOK 

After that he and his big appetite hopped into the din¬ 
ing room. There stood dear Uncle John Hare, looking 
over the Turnip City News. 

“Well, how did you sleep?” he asked, gazing up over 
his spectacles. 

“Tip top,” replied his small bunny nephew. “I never 
heard a thing until the Big Red Rooster went ‘cock-a- 
doodle-do’ on his little tin horn. I guess he woke me up.” 

“I imagine so,” replied the old gentleman bunny, with 
a twinkle in his eye. “My, but you were tired last night 
after your long ride. Let’s see what Mrs. Daisy Duck 
has for us.” 

Then down sat the two little rabbits as the nice old 
lady duck waddled in with carrot coffee, clover cereal and 
buckwheat cakes covered with pink lollypop syrup. Oh, 
me, oh, my! wasn’t the breakfast good! Well I guess yes 
three times and maybe four. 

Just then somebody knocked on the door, one, two, 
three, bingo! 

“Who’s that, I wonder?” exclaimed Uncle John Hare. 

“I’ll see,” answered Mrs. Daisy Duck. “You go on 
with your breakfast. Most likely it’s the gas man with 
a bill.” 

But it wasn’t. No, it was somebody else, only worse. 
I guess sometimes we ought to be thankful it’s only the 
gas man! 

“Who is it?” asked the old gentleman bunny, as Mrs. 
Daisy Duck returned with a worried expression on her 
face and a piece of paper in her bill. 


THE MESSENGER 


271 

“Oh, dear, oh, dear! It seems to me 
That Mr. Trouble Man 
Is always knocking on the door 
As loudly as he can,” 

answered Mrs. Daisy Duck. 

“Who is it and what does he want and what’s his 
name?” asked the old gentleman hare, pulling the nap¬ 
kin from under his chin to wipe his gold-rimmed spec¬ 
tacles instead of his whiskers. Wasn’t that careless of 
him? Well I should say so, especially as there wasn’t a 
drop of syrup on them,—I mean his spectacles of course, 
not his whiskers. 

“Read this note,” whispered Mrs. Daisy Duck, look¬ 
ing anxiously over her shoulder as if fearing somebody or 
something might suddenly come in through the half open 
door. 

Uncle John Hare quickly opened the envelope and 
read: 


“I want a million carrot cents 
And I want them mighty quick, 

Just hand them to my messenger 
Or he’ll hit you with my stick!” 

“Dear, oh, dear!” exclaimed the poor old gentleman 
bunny, dropping this dreadful note on the carpet, “what 
shall I do?” 

“Do something quick,” answered Mrs. Daisy Duck, 


272 LITTLE JACK RABBIT’S BIG BLUE BOOK 

glancing timidly over her shoulder. Indeed she had al¬ 
ready almost twisted her long neck into a bowknot. 

“All right,” answered the old gentleman hare with a 
sigh, hopping over to a big iron safe in the corner and 



“Twice to the left, three to the right!” 

squatting down to turn back and forth the little silver knob. 
Over the door was printed in big gold letters: 

“John Hare. 

Turnip City.” 


But, dear me! He was so nervous that the door 
wouldn’t obey his trembling paw. Over and over, around 























THE MESSENGER 


273 


and around, he turned the little knob, repeating the com¬ 
bination half aloud: 

“Twice to the left, three to the right! 

Then stop at the spot where it says ‘Good night!’ ” 

Just then a loud knocking came at the kitchen door. 
“Please hurry,” cried the frightened lady duck house¬ 
keeper, looking anxiously into the kitchen. “The mes¬ 
senger is at the back door.” 

“Dear, dear! I’m all muddled up!” cried the old gen¬ 
tleman hare. 

“Bing, bang, bung! 

Your doorbell I have rung, 

Now if my knocking you don’t hear 
I’ll rattle every chandelier!” 

shouted a voice. 

“Wait, wait a minute,” answered Mrs. Daisy Duck 
through the keyhole. “Mr. John Hare is trying to open 
his safe. You make so much noise he can’t find the com¬ 
bination.” 

For a little while the knocking ceased. But, dear me! 
Uncle John Hare couldn’t remember the combination. 
Scratching his long left ear with his right hind foot, he 
turned to Little Jack Rabbit with a sigh. 

“Maybe you can unlock it.” 

But the little rabbit boy was no more successful. No 


274 LITTLE JACK RABBIT’S BIG BLUE BOOK 

indeed, although he turned the knob around and started 
all over again. I guess he never would have found the 
combination if Bobbie Redvest, the dear little friendly 
robin, hadn’t hopped to the open window. 

“Pull the little knob out just one inch, 

Then say to yourself, ‘Why, it’s a cinch!’ 

Next, turn the knob to figure four 

And you’ll have no trouble with the iron door,” 

he whispered. 

At once the little rabbit followed the pretty robin’s 
directions and in less time than I can take to tell it, the 
safe door flew open and out rolled a million carrot cents, 
each one counting out loud as it touched the floor! “One, 
Two, Three,” and so on, right up to a million! Wasn’t 
that wonderful? Well, I just guess it was. I never had 
a Flying Eagle Cent that could count more than one! 

“Get a bag,” whispered Uncle John Hare, and filling 
it with carrot cents that good lady duck housekeeper 
opened the kitchen door, and handed it to an ugly little 
dwarf. 

“Thank you, ma’am,” he said, touching his red peaked 
hat with a crooked forefinger. Then slinging the bag over 
his shoulder, he trudged around the house and through 
the little gateway in the white picket fence to the Fairy 
Forest that lay some two thousand hops to the North of 
Turnip City. 

“Has he gone?” asked Uncle John Hare, dusting off 


THE MESSENGER 


27 S 


his knees and pulling down his pink waistcoat. “Are you 
sure he’s gone?” 

“Yes, yes,” answered Mrs. Daisy Duck, with a happy 
quack. “He’s gone, thank goodness! I hope he’ll not 
come back for many a year.” 



“Thank you, ma’am,” he said. 


“Never can tell,” mused the old gentleman rabbit. 
“The Ragged Rabbit Giant will return more than a mil¬ 
lion carrot cents in less time than that.” 

“Trust the fairies,” cautioned Bobbie Redvest. “They 


























276 LITTLE JACK RABBIT’S BIG BLUE BOOK 

have asked the giant to lend them money,” and away flut¬ 
tered the little bird to the old apple tree. 

But even after Bobbie Redvest had cautioned Little 
Jack Rabbit that curious little bunny boy wanted to hop 
over to the Fairy Forest. 

“No, sireebus!” cried Uncle John Hare. “You do 
what that little robin says and you’ll not go far wrong.” 

“All right, Uncle John,” answered the little bunny boy 
cheerfully, for he was a good little rabbit and had learned 
to obey his elders without sulking, which is the better 
way, after all. For when we do a thing with a smile it’s 
so much easier. I wonder why, but maybe you know, little 
reader. If not, Mother will tell you, as sure as lollypops 
come on sticks and ice cream in cones. 

Well, the little bunny boy rabbit had a lovely visit and 
when it came time for him to take the Stagecoach home 
he kissed Uncle John Hare good-by, nor did he forget 
Mrs. Daisy Duck. “Good-by, good-by!” he shouted from 
his seat beside the Old Dog Driver. 

“Come again soon,” cried the old gentleman hare, 
waving his stovepipe hat. “Give my love to Mother.” 

Away rattled the Billy Goat Stage Coach across Lettuce 
Square, down Potato Street and out on Radish Road that 
led to Rabbitville, fifteen thousand five hundred hops to 
the south. 

By and by the Old Dog Driver took his pipe out of his 
mouth and shouted, “Carrot City!” Then pulling in his 
team of billy goats, waited for an old gander to alight. 
It took the old feathered gentleman quite a while to flop 


UNCLE JOHN HARE 277 

down the two little steps at the back of the stage, but at last 
he was safely on the ground. Then as soon as a fat lady 
pig, wearing a purple sunbonnet and black mitts, had 
seated herself, the Old Dog Driver clicked his teeth with 
his tongue and said “Gid-ap!” 

Away bounded the billy goat team, shaking their 
horns, which were tipped with little gold thimbles, and 
throwing out their hoofs, shod with bright steel shoes. By 
and by they came to Lettucemere, a pretty village by the 
Bubbling Brook. Here the Lady Pig got out and in 
jumped a big mooly cow. Mrs. O’Mooly was her name. 
She wore a big yellow hat and a pink shirt waist and on her 
two hind feet a pair of white kid boots. My, but she was 
a stylish looking lady cow. 

“Gid-ap!” clicked the Old Dog Driver, and away went 
the nimble little billy goats until by and by, after a while, 
and a bump and a smile, they came to the Old Bramble 
Patch. There at the gate stood Lady Love, the little rab¬ 
bit’s pretty mother. Her simple gingham dress with white 
lace collar seemed a beautiful gown to the little rabbit, 
and her eyes two stars as she folded him to her breast and 
whispered, “Home again to Mother.” 


Dear Little Boys and Girls: 

Are you lonely because you and 1 have reached the end of the 
story? Come closer. I've a secret to whisper. Already I have 
begun to write "Little Jack Rabbit's Big Red Book." When it is 
finished wont we have a happy time reading it? 

Your loving 

JJncle Dave. 

Old Bramble Patch, Rabbitville, 

Happy Days, 1924. 



























































































































































































